UCSB  LIBRARY 


LIFE  AND  WRITINGS 


MRS.  CHRISTIANA  B.  COWELL, 

CONSOllT    OK 

11EV.    D.    B.    COWELL, 
WHO  DIED  IN  LEBANON,  MAINE,  OCT.  <s. 
AGKO  41  YEAKS. 


Though   dead,   she  speaketh. 


BIDDEFORD: 

,IOIIN    !•:.    lU'TI.Ki:   .<•  C<>MIV\\V.| 

1872, 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1872, 

BY  J.  E.  BUTLER  &  CO., 
In  the  Office  of  tte  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


PREFACE. 


WHILE,  with  astonishment,  we  behold  the 
mighty  cataract,  as  it  leaps  from  its  rocky 
bed  ;  or  gaze  on  the  rushing  stream,  as  it 
dashes  and  foams  down  the  mountain  side ; 
or,  with  wonder,  look  at  the  deep,  broad 
river,  as  its  waters  move  along  to  old  ocean's 
bed,  we  almost  forget  the  beautiful,  mean- 
tiering  stream,  as  it  silently  moves  along  in 
the  meadows  below,  giving  life  to  vegeta- 
tion, and  causing,  in  harvest,  the  husband- 
man to  leap  for  joy,  —  so,  while  in  amaze- 
ment we  hear  of  the  heroic  deeds  of  warriors, 
who  have  slain  their  (Bousands,  and  stained 
many  u  battle-field  with  blood  ;  or  the  brave 
sons  of  the  ocean,  who,  to  gain  renown, 
have  pushed  their  discoveries  far  into  the 
ice-bound  regions,  in  suffering  and  often 
death  ;  or  the  man  who,  to  gain  the  glitter- 
ing toys  of  earth,  has  endured  hardships  and 


4  PREFACE. 

encountered  (lungers,  on  the  sea  and  land, 
we  have  almost  forgotten  the  placid,  silent 
influence  of  the  female  who  has  toiled  through 
life  to  throw  a  healthful  atmosphere  around 
community,  and  especially  the  young,  where 
her  lot  has  been  cast. 

It  has  been  the  work  of  the  subject  of 
our  sketch  to  live  for  the  good  of  others, 
by  her  words  of  cheer,  and  comfort,  and 
admonition,  and  throw  around  the  giddy 
youth  the-  words  of  love  which  have  drawn 
many  to  the  Saviour's  arms ;  and  through 
them  mighty  victories  have  been  won,  and 
many  brought  to  the  feet  of  Prince  Im- 
manuel. 

Why  not  publish  to  the  world  what  woman 
in  her  humble  sphere  has  done,  and  is  capa- 
ble of  doing,  to  benefit  the  world  and  re- 
deem it  to  God?  This  noble  purpose  the 
writer  of  this  sketch  has  in  view  in  its  pub- 
lication, hoping  it  may  do  good  in  encour- 
aging the  young  early  to  "choose  wisdom's 
way  and  walk  in  the  path  of  virtue,  which 
is  the  only  path  of  safety,  and  to  cheer  on 
those  mothers  who  tire  toiling  alonjj  life's 


PREFACE.  5 

rough  and  stormy  way,  until  they  shall 
gain  that  Heaven  of  rest  which  God  has 
prepared  for  his  people. 

By  the  earnest  solicitations  of  friends  this 
imperfect  sketch  appears  before  the  public;  — 
imperfect,  indeed,  because  when  written,  it 
was  expected  that  but  a  small  portion  of  it 
would  ever  go  in  print,  and  when  collected 
and  re- written,  it  has  been  done  in  haste, 
and  many  valuable  productions  have  been 
lost  or  destroyed.  Therefore  we  hope  the 
critic's  eye  will  pass  by  its  imperfections, 
and  only  gather  the  good  it  was  designed 
to  do  in  its  publication. 


LIFE  AND  WRITINGS 


MRS.  CHRISTIANA  B.  COWELL 


MAJOR  COFFIN  was  among  the  first  settlers 
of  the  town  of  Alton,  Xew  Hampshire.  He 
took  up  a  large  tract  of  land  of  what  was 
then  a  wilderness,  and  after  much  hard  toil 
succeeded  in  clearing  it  up  and  bringing  it 
into  a  good  state  of  cultivation.  He  raised 
a  large  family  of  children,  who  were  early 

taught  to   labor  and  endure  many   hardships, 

• 
which   were   common  to  those  hardy  pioneers 

who  first  broke  the  wilds  of  rugged  "Xew 
England,  but  which  are  almost  wholly  un- 
known to  us,  living  among  all  the  comforts 
and  privileges  of  the  present  day.  But  the 
labors  among  the  rugged  hills  and  on  the 
rocky  farms,  raised  up  strong  and  sturdy 


LIFE    AM)    WHITINGS    OF 


sons  and  healthy,  vigorous  daughters.  Major 
Coffin  had  the  plcnsure  to  see  nearly  all  of 
.  his  children  married  and  settled  around  him 
within  a  circuit  of  a  few  miles  of  the  paternal 
home.  i>y  the  religious  teachings  and  pray- 
ers of  a  pious  mother,  and  by  surrounding 
Christian  influences,  all  these  children  sought 
and  found  their  Saviour.  The  youngest  of 
these  sons,  Stephen,  married  Deborah  Phil- 
brick,  an  estimable  young  lady,  daughter 
of  one  of  the  pioneer  settlers  of  Sanlx>rnton, 
Xe\v  Hampshire,  and  settled  near  his  father's 
farm  in  Alton.  His  second  daughter,  Chris- 
tiana,—  the  subject  of  this  sketch, —  was  born 
September  24th,  1821. 

The  path  of  her  childhood  was  often 
crossed  with  the  many  shadows  of  little 
trials,  doubts,  fears,  grievances,  and  all  the 
perplexities  —  so  farge  to  them  —  which  are 
incident  to  the  childhood  of  us  all  ;  yet, 
amid  it  all,  she  always  preserved  a  sunny 
temper.  Reared  in  her  country  home,  among 
the  hills  and  dale^  of  .{he  "Switzerland  of 
America,"  where  Nature  lias  so  lavishly  be- 
stowed her  varieties  and  beauties,  she  spent 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL. 

sonic  of  the  happiest  moments  of  her  youth 
in  roaming  through  lields  and  woods,  play- 
ing by  the  laughing  brooks,  mocking  the 
singing  birds,  driving  the  cattle  off  to  pas- 
ture at  early  dawn,  when  a  few  faint  streaks 
of  sunlight  streamed  over  the  eastern  horizon, 
and  again  driving  them  home  in  the  still 
twilight. 

While  others  shut  their  eyes,  and  could 
see  nothing  attractive  in  the  opening  flowers, 
the  murmuring  brooks,  the  warbling  birds, 
the  fleecy  clouds,  the  stars,  moon  and  sun, 
she  saw  loveliness  and  beauty  painted  on 
them  by  the  fingers  of  a  Divine  Workman ; 
and,  no  doubt,  that  in  these  days  of  child- 
hood, spent  in  communion  with  Nature,  she 
drank  in  many  of  those  beautiful  strains  and 
lofty  themes,  which,  in  after-life  flowed  so 
freely  from  her  pen  and  spread  such  a  sweet- 
ness over  her  whole  life. 

When  she  was  seven  years  of  age,  her 
father  moved  to  Dover,  New  Hampshire. 
Here,  he  and  Deacon  Jenness  built  a  house, 
part  of  which  they  dedicated  for  the  worship 
of  God.  It  w;is  a  place  where  many  of  the 

i  • 


10  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

servants  of  God  preached  the  Gospel.  It 
was  in  this  bethel  that  the  long-to-be-rcmem- 
bered  Rev.  Elias  Hutching  once  preached 
during  one  of  his  preaching  tours.  He  was 
listened  to  by  the  young  Christiana,  who 
said  that  then  she  began  to  feel  that  she  was 
a  great  sinner,  and  there  she  sought  and 
found  the  Saviour,  to  the  great  rejoicing  of 
her  heart,  being  then  only  eight  years  old. 
At  the  return  of  her  father,  who  had  been 
absent  a  few  days,  she  ran  to  meet  him, 
and  clasping  him,  exclaimed,  "Pa,  I  have 
found  Jesus !  Why  hadn't  you  told  me  he 
was  so  good?  If  you  had,  I  should  have 
sought  him  before."  She  now  commenced 
her  Christian  life.  She  not  only  had  the 
privilege  of  hearing  the  gospel  preached  from 
Sabbath  to  Sabbath,  but  also  here  she  could 
mingle  her  voice  with  converts  in  prayer 
and  praise ;  she  also  had  nursing  fathers  and 
mothers,  who  took  her  by  the  hand  and  aided 

her    along    the    Christian    path.     Her    father 

• 
remained   in  Dover   some    more   than  a   year 

longer,   where    her    youthful    mind    had    the 
privilege   of  attending   school   and   advancing 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    15.    COWELL.  11 

and  exploring  the  hidden  treasures  in  the 
field  of  knowledge. 

She  was  so  diligent  in  her  studies,  and 
made  so  much  improvement,  that  her  teacher 
gave  to  her  a  class  in  English  Grammar  and 
Parsing,  for  her  to  hear  their  recitations. 
And  thus  she  continued  serving  the  Lord 
with  a  full  purpose  of  heart  and  training 
her  mind  for  future  usefulness. 

When  eleven  years  of  age,  she  with  an 
ekler  sister  followed  their  Saviour  in  the 
ordinance  of  baptism,  in  Alton,  whither  her 
father  had  returned.  She  ahvays  considered 
it  as  one  of  the  happiest  days  of  her  life  : 
and  who  does  not  feel  that  the  day  when 
the}'  follow  the  example  of  their  Saviour 
is  a  happy  day,  and  can  almost  hear  the 
voice  of  Grod  saying,  "  I  am  well  pleased "  ? 
The  administrator  of  this  ordinance,  and  wife, 
in  after  years  wrote  as  follows,  dated  at 
Brunswick,  Me.,  Jan.  30th,  1856:  — 


SISTER  CHRISTIANA,  —  After  so  many  long 
years  of  absence,  I  take  this  opportunity  to 
address  you  by  the  way  of  a  short  epistle.  I 


12  LIFE    AND    WHITINGS    OF 

thank  you  for  your  epistle  by  the  way  of  your 
lather,  who  called  on  us  a  few  weeks  since, 
Indeed,  we  were  glad  to  see  him.  It  is  about 
twenty  years,  with  one  exception,  since  we  last 
suw  him.  I  have  not  seen  nor  heard  from  you 
since  we  met  down  by  that  delightful  pond  of 
water  where  you  and  your  sister  took  upon  you 
your  baptismal  vow ;  that  vow,  I  trust,  you 
have  regarded  until  now.  Amen.  May  the 
Lord  keep  you  and  yours  until  the  coming 
kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ.  In  your  letter  you 
tell  us  of  the  death  of  your  dear  mother.  Oh, 
how  many  times  I  have  thought  of  that  deal* 
woman !  As  God  blessed  her,  so  may  He 
bless  her  dear  children  and  husband  whom  she 
has  left  behind.  Also,  in  your  letter,  you  tell 
us  that  you  have  lost  near  and  dear  little  ones. 
May  the  Lord  help  you  to  bear  up  under  this 
affliction,  for  affliction  indeed  it  is;  we  know 
how  to  sympathize  with  you  for  we  have  lost 
our  all, —  the  greatest  affliction  we  ever  met 
with, —  but  say,  as  Jesus  said  concerning  the 
cross,  "Thy  will,  and  not  mine,  be  done." 

Dear  Sister  Christiana, —  If  you  and  I  meet 
no  more  on  the  shores  of  time,  I  hope  we  shall 
be  so  unspeakably  happy  as  to  meet  in  the 
Heavenly  Jerusalem.  We  know  to  enter  the 
Kingdom  of  Heaven  must  be  through  much 
tribulation.  Let  us  put  on  the  whole  armor, 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  13 

my  dear  sister,  and  face  the  enemy.  (iod 
will  give  the  victory.  Amen  !  Hallelujah  ! 
God  gives  the  victory.  Let  your  alms  and 
your  prayers  come  up  before  the  Lord  as  :i 
sweet  sacrifice  —  as  life  unto  life. 

Please  say  to  your  husband,  Preach  Jesus, 
at  the  sacrifice  of  property,  wife  or  children,  if 
it  be  necessary.  Those  who  are  found  faithful 
unto  the  end,  will  hear  from  their  Lord,  "  AVell 
done,  good  and  faithful  servant."  I  must  say 
farewell.  ANDREW  ROLLINS. 

A  few  extracts  from  a  letter  written  by  his 
wife  :  — 

"DEAR  SISTER  CHRISTIANA, —  ~\Ve  are  glad  to 
hear  from  yon,  although  years  have  passed  away 
since  we  saw  you  ;  notwithstanding,  you  have 
not  been  forgotten.  Many  changes  have  taken 
place  since  we  parted  with  you  in  Alton,  on 
the  day  when  you  followed  Christ  in  the  ordi- 
nance of  baptism.  We  have  never  forgotten 
the  season,  and  have  frequently  spoken  of  it 
to  friends,  and  we  are  glad  to  learn  that  you 
are  still  pursuing  the  journey.  AVe  hope  soon 
to  see  the  end  of  the  race,  and  meet  in  the  new 
Jerusalem,  where  sickness  and  sorrow,  pain 
and  death,  will  he  felt  and  feared  no  more.  I 


14  LIFE    AND    WHITINGS    OF 

will  close  wishing  you  all  the  grace  that  is  need- 
ful to  carry  you  through  the  cares  and  trials  of 
this  life  and  bring  you  safe  at  home  to  dwell 
with  Christ.  Oh,  I  long  for  that  day  —  the  day 
when  the  saints  will  be  clothed  in  immortal 
bloom  to  die  no  more.  HULDAII  ROLLINS. 

After  her  baptism  she  went  on  her  way 
-rejoicing,  attending  meetings  with  her  par- 
ents, where  her  voice  was  often  heard  in 
singing  praises  to  God,  and  exhorting  all 
around  ito  fall  in  love  with  her  dear  Saviour. 
When  not  thus  engaged,  she  was  improving 
her  mind  by  study,  training  herself  for  a 
still  higher  usefulness  in  the  cause  of  her 
Redeemer. 

Many  were  brought  to  Christ  through  her 
virtuous  life  and  example,  her  tender  plead- 
ings, and  earnest,  fervent  prayers.  Thus 
passed  the  years  of  her  youth,  crowded 
with  sorrows  and  sadness ;  but  yet  all  these 
clouds  were  silver-lined  with  the  many  joys 
and  pleasures  which  she  found  in  nature, 
education,  youth  and  religion.  The  follow- 
ing is  related  of  her  when  she  was  a  small 
girl:  "One  day  she  went  into  the  field  with 


Mi:*.    CHHISTIAXA    15.    TOWELL.  15 

her  sister  and  father.  Her  father  was  plant- 
ing corn,  and  he vbrought  them  to  drop  it 
for  him.  Finding  more  kernels  in  a  hill 
than  he  had  ordered,  he  became  angry,  and 
struck  Christiana  a  blow  on  the  side  of  her 
head.  She  calmly  and  sadly  looked  him  in 
the  face  and  said,  "  Father,  I  think  you  have 
done  wrong;  I  did  not  do  it, —  it  Avas  sis- 
ter." Her  father  said  that  the  rebuke  was 
so  gentle  and  Christian-like  that  it  pierced 
him  to  the  heart,  and  it  was  always  the 
hardest  cross  he  ever  took  up  to  pray 
in  her  presence."  Her  father's  house  was 
always  open  to  the  weary  pilgrim,  of  every 
name,  who  loved  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
and  his  granary  was  always  open  to  feed 
their  horses.  Thus  Christiana  had  the  priv- 
elege  of  drinking  from  the  stream,  whose 
waters  make  glad  the  city  of  our  God  ;  she 
took  great  delight  in  waiting  on  the  servants 
of  the  Most  High ;  and  often  she  would  sit 
up  until  a  late  hour  in  the  night,  braiding 
hats,  that  she  might  earn  something  to  give 
to  the  poor,  or  a  small  gift  to  the  servants 
of  Christ,  to  encourage  them  to  still  labor 
in  the  Master's  Vineyard. 


16  LIFE    AND    WRITIXGS    OF 

The  writer  well  remembers,  during  the 
!ir-l  visit  he  ever  made  *here,  in  company 
with  a  minister  of  the  Gospel,  that  on  the 
last  morning  before  their  leave  they  all  bowed 
before  the  family  altar,  where  the  Scriptures 
were  read  and  prayer  offered  every  morning. 
After  several  had  invoked  the  Divine  bless- 
ing, Christiana,  in  an  earnest,  humble  prayer, 
asked  her  Heavenly'  Father  to  remember  in 
a  special  manner  his  servants,  and  as  they 
went  forth  to  labor  for  the  salvation  of  the 
world,  to  go  with  them  and  give  them  suc- 
cess. A  few  years  after,  her  father,  desir- 
ing to  give  her  and  the  rest  of  his  children 
better  advantages  for  an  education,  moved 
to  AVolfeboro',  Xew  Hampshire,  and  settled 
by  the  beautiful  Lake  Winnipisseogee  ("smile 
of  the  Great  Spirit").  Here  our  youthful 
friend  rejoiced  to  think  that  she  could  drink 
larger  draughts  from  the  fount  of  knowledge. 
She  was  so  studious,  improved  each  moment 
so  well,  and  performed  so  faithfully  each 
laborious  task,  that  she  soon  obtained  the 
position  of  an  assistant  in  the  academy. 
But  her  bright  hopes,  her  glowing  prospects, 


MIJS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  17 

her  youthful  aspirations  were  soon  to  be 
clouded,  for  a  Christian  mother  —  the  best 
friend  ou  earth  —  Avas  about  to  take  her 
departure  for  the  spirit-land.  AVc  will  now 
copy  a  few  extracts  from  her  pen  : 


THE  MOTHER'S  LAST  PRAYER. 

BY    CRADLE-SIDE. 

Ox  the  shore  of  the  beautiful  lake  in  the 
Granite  State,  called  the  "Smile  of  the  Great 
Spirit,"  was  our  early  home.  The  advantages 
of  the  literary  institution  there,  and  all  the 
facilities  that  parental  IOYO  and  faithfulness 
could  secure  for  our  improvement,  together 
with  the  truly  grand  and  pk-turesque  scenery 
of  the  locality,  rendered  ours  indeed  a  happy, 
quiet,  rural  home.  Though  bright  and  balmy 
was  life's  morning,  clouds  were  soon  stealing 
down  its  horizon,  and  casting  deep  and  long 
shadows  along  our  path.  Our  mother  was 
changing.  Her  step  was  becoming  slow  and 
feeble,  her  eye  large  and  languid,  her  words 
few  and  sometimes  slightly  mournful  in  tone  of 
utterance. 


18  LIFF    AXO    WRITINGS    OF 

She  was  long  conscious  of  the  unyielding 
grasp  of  disease  upon  her,  yet  had  not  spoken 
freely  of  her  convictions,  until  the  evening  to 
which  this  sketch  refers.  The  Sabbath  day 
was  closing,  and  the  family  were  sitting  silently 
in  the  gray  twilight,  or  moving,  with  muffled 
tread  about  the  house.  Who  can  define  that 
mysterious'awe  which  pervades  the  household 
when  sickness  comes?  That  spell-like  power, 
that  holds  the  floating  thought,  till  a  vivid  con- 
sciousness of  the  inner  being  and  its  solemn 
destinies  is  fully  aroused,  and  the  heretofore 
idolized  treasures  of  earthly  vanity  dwindle  to 
a  point. 

It  was  at  such  an  impressive  hour  that  a 
request  was  whispered  among  us,  from  our 
mother,  to  come  to  her  room.  Four  in  num- 
ber, we  quietly  took  our  seats  around  the  open 
tire  where  she  was  sitting. 

I  see  her  still,  as  on  that  night, 

Reclining  iu  that  large  armed-chair, 
While  on  her  face,  the  taper  light 

Showed  death  and  heaven  soft  blended  there. 

"Children,"  she  said,  "I  wish  to  see  you  all 
together.  I  shall  soon  leave  you.  You  can- 
not understand  how  hard  it  is  for  me  to  break 
away  from  my  own  dear  children,  and  go  away, 
and  leave  them  in  a  world  of  sin  and  suffering. 


Mils.    CIIUIsTIAXA    B.    CO  WELL.  H< 

Yet  God  is  nble  to  u'ive  1110  strength  :  He  knows 
what  is  best." 

With  frequent  intervals  of  rest,  in  a  tremu- 
lous voice,  she  told  of  life's  great  responsibili- 
ties, its  snares  and  ills.  She  talked  of  duties 
to  each  other,  of  care  and  reverence  for  our 
lather,  who,  in  addition  to  the  family  charge 
soon  to  double  upon  him,  had  felt  the  commis- 
sion, "Go  ye  into  all  the  world  and  preach  the 
gospel/'  and  above  all  a  preparation  to  meet 
her  again  where  sickness  and  death  could  never 
come. 

Tears  and  sobs  were  all  the  response  we 
were  able  to  make.  These  told  her  how  deeply 
her  words  were  sinking  into  our  hearts,  and 
how  painful  was  the  rending  of  the  ties  that 
bound  us.  After  a  pause  for  rest,  she  turned 
to  her  son,  then  about  fifteen  years  of  age,  who 
had  taken  a  low  seat  by  her  side,  and  taking 
his  hand  in  one  of  her's,  and  resting  the  other 
upon  his  head,  she  said, — 

"My  dear  boy,  I  have  no  hope,  no  assur- 
ance that  we  shall  meet  again.  How  often  I 
have  counselled  you,  and  prayed  for  you. 
I  can  do  no  more.  You  still  choose  the  path 
of  sin  and  death.  If  you  pursue  this  fatal  road, 
I  shall  never  see  you  again.  Must  I  give  you 
up?  O  my  son,  my  only  son  !" 

Here    her    voice,    hitherto    calm    while   all 


20  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

i 

around  her  wept,  was  lost  in  the  surging  of  her 
own  grief.  She  bowed  her  head  upon  her 
hands  and  yielded  to  the  tide  of  tenderness  and 
emotion  with  which  we  were  nil  overwhelmed. 
Mother,  whose  eyes  rest  on  this  page,  hath 
ever  stood  on  life's  outer  verge,  where  the 
hoarse  murmur  of  the  death  wave  came  rising 
up  from  beneath,  while  around  you,  clinging  to 
your  garments  and  drawing  upon  your  heart- 
strings, were  your  children  entreating  your 
stay  ?  As  you  have  turned  your  eyes  to  the 
further  shore,  seen  the  pilots  in  waiting,  and 
the  golden  gates  opening  to  receive  you  into 
their  everlasting  joys,  and  have  there  and  then 
remembered  that  not  nil  your  children  had 
secured  a  passport  to  that  glorious  city? 

Then  take  with  you  that  experience,  and 
enter  with  me  that  solemn  room,  for  you  can 
understand  the  depths  from  which  come  up 
those  moans  so  plaintive,  so  faint  and  low 
that  nothing  lives  betwixt  them  and  silence. 
O.:,  for  strength  for  this  hour,  she  says,  once 
more  to  pray.  This  will  be  the  last;  I  feel  it 
must  be  so.  Slowly  she  sinks  to  the  attitude 
of  prayer,  all  of  us  following  her  example, 
while  she  pours  forth  her  full  soul,  with  a 
trembling  pathos  and  earnest  tenderness  as 
make  every  heart  thrill  with  emotions  never  to 
be  forgotten,  it  was  indeed  the  last.  Mater- 
nal love's  last  throbbing. 


MKS.    CHHISTIAXA    B.    COWKLL.  '21 

"You  are  no  longer  mine,"  she  said,  some 
clays  after  this  event,  as  she  seemed  rapidly 
sinking  in  death.  "I  have  given  you  all  to 
God.  My  work  is  done.  Whatever  be  your 
end  my  soul  will  rest  in  peace.  I  am  only 
waiting  my  hour." 

As  the  weary  to  his  rest,  as  the  pilgrim  to 
his  home,  as  the  loving  heart  to  its  treasure,  so 
passed  our  mother  into  heaven,  joyful  and 
triumphant.* 

Long  years  have  passed,  bearing  us  onward 
deep  into  life's  toils  and  conflicts,  where  the 
heart  is  often  fainting,  while 

Duty,  duty,  is  (lie  sound, 

To  which  we  tramp  life's  battle-ground. 

From  amid  the  dust  and  heat  of  such  a  stand- 
point, how  sweet  to  look  far  back  to  that  dear 
home  hearth,  to  see  that  large  armed-chair 
slowly  moving  to  and  fro  in  the  fire-light,  with 
its  precious  burden,  a  pale,  shadowy  remnant 
of  m}T  mother ;  frail  cage,  containing  a  large 
full  fledged  soul,  air  winged  for  its  homeward 
flight,  and  scattering  down  to  us  as  she  rises, 
love  gems,  to  be  worn  ever  as  sweet  memorials 
in  our  bosoms.  How  sweet  to  pause  amid  the 
noise  of  busy  life,  and  listen  to  the  hallowed 
tones  of  that  last  prayer,  as  they  come  vibra- 
ting up  through  the  depths  of  twenty  years, 


22  UFK    AND   WRITINGS    OF 

and  sweep  over  our  spirit  chords,  waking  soul- 
inspiring  melody.  Even  now  we  see  that  altar 
of  consecration,  on  which  are  lain  a  mother's 
heart-treasures,  all  quivering  and  bleeding, 
just  torn  from  the  parent  bosom  that  can  claim 
them  no  longer.  I  see  the  offering  of  tears 
poured  out  upon  the  sacrifice,  and  over  all 
and  mingled  therewith  I  see  the  sweet  incense 
of  filial  love  and  divine  trust  now  rising,  a 
snowy  cloud  circling,  still  circling  the  throne 
of  the  Eternal  One,  sweet  token  of  acceptance 
there. 

Yes,  it  did  find  acceptance  there.  The  son 
for  whom  she  plead,  for  some  years  resisted 
the  influences  gathered  around  him.  Still  her 
memory  hung  over  him  and  repelled  the  re- 
turning angel,  until  he  yielded  fully  to  the 
Spirit's  power.  Such  were  his  self-reproaches 
and  contrition,  that  he  exclaimed,  "Oh,  what  a 
sinner  I  Oh,  my  mother,  could  she  but  pray  for 
me.  Could  she  hear  me  ask  forgiveness  for  the 
grief  I  have  caused  her  to  feel." 

The  wounded  spirit  found  the  true  balm  at 
the  foot  of  the  cross  and  was  healed.  Who 
shall  say  that  his  angel  mother  shared  not  in 
the  "  more  joy  in  heaven  over  one  sinner  that 
repenteth,  than  over  ninety-and-nine  that  need 
no  repentance  ! " 


MRS.    OIIKISTIAN'A    B.    COWELL.  "23 


POETRY  ON  FRIENDSHIP, 

WRITTEN   IN    YOUTH. 

Tell  me,  who  can,  where  friendship  reigns, — 
Where  hate  and  envy  never  gains 

Ascendency  of  love ; 
Where  virtue  takes  imperial  sway, 
And  all  the  passions  every  day 

IH  sweet  accordance  move. 

I  asked  the  gay  and  sprightly  throng, 
Who  seemed  to  be  in  union  strong, 

If  friendship  trne  was  there  ; 
Each  paused,  and  sighed,  and  dropped  a  tear, 
And  said,  "True  friendship  is  not  here, 

But  dwells  we  know  not  where." 

I  asked  the  youth  of  riper  years, 
When  suddenly  a  flow  of  tears 

Was  falling  to  the  ground  ; 
And,  turning  to  a  cruel  maid, 
Who  once  had  won  his  heart,  he  said, 

"  Friendship  I  have  not  found." 

I  asked  the  maid  of  lovely  hue, 

If  she  would  show  me  friendship  true  ; 

But  soon  her  heart  was  grieved, 
And,  turning  to  a  perjured  youth, 
While  sighing,  spoke  the  solemn  truth, 

"  Alas  !  I  was  deceived.'' 

I  asked  for  friendship  of  the  sage, 
He  looked  upon  my  youthful  age, 

And  sighing,  did  exclaim, 
'  Dear  youth,  thou  oft  on  earth  must  sigh, 
For  disappointments,  over  nigh, 
Minglod  with  hitter  pain." 


24  LIFE    AND    WRITING!?    OF 

]{y  many  Ions?  revolving  years, 
lie  learnt  this  is  a  vale  of  tears — 

A  scene  of  human  woe. 
In  vain  we  seek  for  friendship  here 
Although  it's  shadows  oft  appear, 

And  oft  they  from  us  go. 

It  is  not  he  whose  flattering  mind 
Would  fain  my  thoughts  defend, — 

Whose  friendship  from  some  interest  springs, 
That  I  would  call  my  friend  ; 

But  he,  who  would  my  numerous  faults 

And  my  ways  seek  to  mend, 
Whose  smile  would  only  merit  gain  : 

Him  would  I  call  my  friend. 

He,  who  in  sad  misfortune's  hour, 
.Some  needful  aid  would  lend, 

Nor  sink  when  clouds  of  sorrow  lower  : 
Him  would  I  call  my  friend. 


Extracts  from  letters  written  before  her 
marriage,  to  the  one  who  became  her  partner 
for  life:  — 

AUGUST,  1840. 

I  received  your  letter  the  3d.  You  ask  me 
to  open  my  mine  freely.  It  has  been  a  trait 
inseparable  from  my  nature  to  be  frank  and 
free  from  disguise.  If  I  know  my  own  heart, 
(which  I  find  no  easy  task  to  learn),  I  am 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  25 

willing  to  lot  others  know  it,  especially  on 
points  of  so  great  moment  as  forming  friend- 
ship for  life.  With  your  sentiments  I  feel  my 
heart  fully  respond.  Though  friendship,  so 
sweet  a  cordial  to  the  wounded  heart :  so  bright 
a  sun  iu  the  moral  world  ;  so  tender  yet  strong 
a  bond,  that  cements,  or  rather  connects  the 
human  family, —  so  valuable  though  it  be,  is 
known  or  felt  in  its  purity  by  few,  so  it  seems 
to  me.  Sought  from  pure  disinterested  mo- 
tives, so  tinn  that  time  and  circumstance  can 
never  shake.  Really,  Sir,  I  have  sometimes 
felt  that  there  was  none  in  all  the  earth, —  that 
the  pure  stream  had  all  gone  back  to  its  foun- 
tain-head, and  existed  only  among  the  guileless 
throng  in  heaven.  Dear  Sir,  from  my  child- 
hood my  whole  aim  has  been  to  go  far  up  the 
hill  of  science.  I  have  ever  felt  I  could  make 
any  earthly  sacrifice  at  learning's  happy  shrine, 
if  I  may  use  the  expression.  I  started  with 
light  foot  and  happy  heart  to  explore  the  scien- 
tific regions,  but  Providence  intervened,  has 
stopped  me  long  enough  to  look  at  my  motives, 
to  prize  my  privileges,  and  now  I  feel  I  may 
begin  again.  It  is  true  there  are  moments 
when  I  feel  alone.  My  mother,  my  truest 
friend,  is  gone ;  and  I,  unprotected,  uuguided, 
exposed  to  the  thousand  dangers  of  a  delusive 
world.  Yet  these  fcelinsrs  drive  me  to  seek 


26  LIFE   AND   WRITINGS    OF 

refuge  'neath  the  wing  of  Him  who  has  re- 
deemed me.  Securely  nestled  there,  I  feel 
that  the  storms  of  life  may  lower  around  me, 
the  invading  foe  assail  me,  but  in  vain.  "I  can 
view  alike  their  dawn  and  close."  For  I  hear 
his  voice  through  the  tempest,  "Lo,  I  am  with 
you."  Amid  the  conflicts  in  which  my  soul  is 
sometimes  near  sinking,  and  I  feel  that  I  must 
fall  by  the  hand  of  mine  enemy,  I  hear  him 
saying,  "My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee."  In 
the  world  tribulation,  but  in  me  peace.  The 
bright  crown  of  glory  that  is  in  store  for  the 
weary  pilgrims  "of  earth  is  sometimes  waved  in 
my  sight,  and  my  spirit  rises  above  its  conflicts, 
and  waits  for  the  coming  of  the  Master,  to  take 
home  his  weary  bride.  I  can  resign  myself 
into  the  hands  of  God,  saying,  "Thy  will,  not 
mine,  be  done."  I  know  not  the  path  he  has 
marked  out  for  me,  if  it  be  life  or  death,  joy  or 
sorrow,  suffering  or  prosperity,  I  am  submis- 
sive, if  I  am  but  in  the  hands  and  service  of 
God.  Pray.  Pray. 

CHRISTIANA  B.  COFFIN. 

MONDAY  EVE,  Sept.,  1840. 

I  have  come  away  into  my  chamber  to  spend 

a  few  moments  in  writing.     Oh,  it  is  a  most 

lovely  night !     The  moon  looks  in  upon  me  so 

sweetly,  and  so  sadly,  too,  that  I  can  do  little 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   li.    COWELL.  27 

else  than  watch  her  silent  march  through  the 
clouds.  Pardon  this  introduction.  Really  such 
the  scene,  the  associations  of  this  degree  or  big- 
ness of  the  moon,  that  comes  over  me.  "Twas 
such  a  night  as  this  when  first  my  mother  slept 
beneath  the  turf."  'Twas  just  where  now,  the 
moon  that  night  she  hung  over  the  happy 
dreamless  slumberer.  Long  I  gazed  from  my 
window,  as  now  I  gaze,  when  my  bleeding, 
writhing  heart  felt  so  strange,  so  soothing  power 
came  o'er  it,  almost  as  though  Nature  itself 
was  mourning  with  me,  and  the  moon  shone  so 
peculiarly  mild  that  it  calmed  the  violent  stir- 
rings of  grief  in  my  bosom,  like  the  kind  tones 
of  sympathy  and  friendship.  And  I  have  ever 
loved  a  moonlight  night ;  and  when  I  take  my 
pen  I  can  but  pour  forth  the  pleasant  yet 
plaintive  breathings  which  it  awakens ;  I  want 
to  have  my  mind  elevated  above  everything  of 
earth.  It  is  sweet  to  me  when  I  can  here  bow, 
and  send  my  whole  soul  up  far  above  the  span- 
gled vault  to  the  land  of  the  blest,  and  hold 
sweet  communion  with  spirits  of  spotless  purity. 
But  I  have  felt  a  great  anxiety  of  late  to 
know  of  being  accepted  of  God.  I  have  at- 
tended the  meeting  at  A.  with  father.  It  ap- 
peared to  be  a  very  powerful  meeting.  Some 
of  talent  and  much  influence  started  for  a  better 
laud.  Truly  the  Lord  of  Hosts  was  there. 


28  LIFE  AND   WRITINGS   OF 

The  "mountains  melted  before  him,  and  the 
tall  oaks  of  Bashan  bowed  at  His  approach." 
Oh,  how  animating  to  the  sinking  mind,  to  see 
the  coming  of  the  Lord  among  the  strong  holds 
of  the  enemy  !  the  ranks  of  Zion  tilling  up  ;  the 
fatal  snares  of  delusion  broke,  that  have  long 
kept  in  bondage  those  designed  to  be  mighty 
champions  in  the,  Israel  of  God  !  Truly  my 
soul  doth  wish  Mount  Zion  well,  whate'er  be- 
comes of  me.  I  feel  to  trust  in  God,  hoping  I 
may  yet  praise  Him, —  Once  more  come  out 
into  broad  rivers  and  streams  where  the  vain 
winds  of  doctrine  and  delusions  of  earth  will  no 
more  toss  my  weak  bark.  Oh,  long,  very  long, 
I  have  been  tossing  in  deep  darkness.  The 
heavens  seemed  clothed  in  sackcloth,  and  deaf 
to  my  prayers.  Though  I  have  seen  the  mov- 
ing of  God  among  his  people,  and  the  returning 
of  wanderers,  and  the  songs  of  the  redeemed  I 
have  heard,  and  rejoiced  for  awhile.  But  I  am 
not  low  down  in  the  sanctuary  of  God  as  in 
days  gone  by,  where  I  would  weep  for  the  sins 
of  the  world,  and  send  up  my  whole  soul  at 
mercy's  altar,  pleading  that  the  lost  might  live. 
Keep  humble  and  pray  for  me.  C.  B.  C. 

Like  Rebekah,  I  have  been  away  weepino1 
before  the  Lord,  and  can  well  nigh  adopt  her 
language,  "Thine  O  God,  am  I.  Thy  will  my 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  29 

law."  I  feel  a  kind  of  peace  steal  o'er  me  as  I 
write,  "I  will  go  with  the  man."  Let  me  live 
and  die  in  the  service  of  my  Lord,  and  lay  my 
all  upon  the  altar.  Oh,  for  more  of  the  spirit 
of  Him  who  sacrificed  his  life  for  his  enemies  ! 
Pray  without  ceasing.  Oh,  for  vital,  deep- 
toned  piety  ! 

NOVEMBER  26,  1840. 

ABSENT  OXE.  —  I  have  come  away  to  my 
chamber,  at  the  declining  of  this  busy  day,  to 
hold  silent  converse  with  the  absent.  I  sup- 
pose you  are  thinking,  now  and  then,  How  is 
C.  prospering?  How  looks  and  sounds  the 
world  to  her?  &c.  I  have  not  time  to  go  into 
a  full  detail  of  the  many  revolutions  in  my 
mind.  I  sometimes  feel  like  the  lone  mariner 
on  the  deep,  whose  only  guide  is  ere  and  anon 
a  glimpse  of  the  Xorth  Star,  and  that  often 
shrouded  in  deep,  thick  cloudy  cloaks. 

But  O  Heaven,  Sweet  Heaven  !  Dear  Lord, 
shall  I  soon  get  to  Heaven?  Oh,  I  see  the 
port  sometimes,  D.,  and  wish  I  were  there. 
Have  you  had  Old  Mother  Hoard's  wings  of 
faith  lifting  you  up  since  1  saw  you?  Yes,  I 
believe  with  her,  that  faith  has  wings.  Often  we 
soar  on  them  far  upward,  till  the  din  of  this  jar- 
ring world  dies  in  the  distance,  and  the  strains 
of  celestial  harmony  strike  on  our  ears.  Would 


30  LIFE    AXD    WRITINGS    OF 

I — yes,  we, — live  more,  yea,  altogether,  above 
the  groveling,  unsatisfying  enjoyments  of  earth  ! 
Why  dream  of  bliss  unmixed  with  Heavenly 
Joys  ?  I  want  —  I  seek  —  none  other  than  that 
which  flows  from  the  exhaustless  fount  of 
Heaven's  mercies.  Would  the  mind  were  in 
us  that  was  in  Christ,  to  live  but  for  the  good 
of  the  world,  and  not  for  the  empty  charms 
that  it  affords.  Such  a  dark,  cold  night  as  this 
think  you  that — that  holy,  meek  Sufferer  lay 
ou  the  earth  in  agonizing  supplication !  The 
same  heavens  over  us,  the  same  breezes  to  waft 
our  prayers  upward,  that  bore  to  the  skies  the 
breathing  of  the  Holiest  of  Holies  —  of  Him 
who  lived  but  to  suffer,  who  suffered  but  to 
save,  who  saved  his  foes,  or  rather  suffered  for 
them.  Is  it  not  possible  to  live  as  free  from 
evil  as  Him  that  knew  no  guile?  Is  it  not 
possible  to  stay  our  spirits  on  or  around 
Heaven's  altar,  where  they  may  hold  constant 
communion  with  God  and  sister  spirits.  We 
were  not  designed,  we  know,  to  scope  or 
rather  bound  our  enjoyments,  our  labors  on 
earth's  small  stage.  As  I  have  sometimes  ex- 
pressed, we  are  or  may  be  learning  to  act  a 
high  and  conspicuous  part  on  Heaven's  high 
theatre.  We  may  fill  us  a  crown  with  many 
gems,  dug  and  gathered  though  with  sorrow 
and  labor  from  earth's  dark,  rough,  uncouth 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  31 

quariy,  to  cast  at  the  feet  of  Him  that  sitteth 
on  the  throne,  to  survey  the  spoils  and  gains 
of  his  stewards  as  they  come  in  before  Him. 
Oh,  what  transporting  ideas  of  the  victor's  con- 
quest, the  laborer's  harvest,  the  summer's  prize, 
are  passing  before  my  mind  !  I  am  almost  de- 
siring to  be  freed  of  these  burdening  clogs  that 
pen  in  my  mind,  that  I  might  see  more  clearly 
into  the  mysteries  and  beauties  of  the  happier 
state.  But  I  feel  my  mental  faculties  so 
palsied,  so  ever  groping  and  dwelling  among 
the  trivial  matters  around  me,  that  I  have 
hardly  a  touch  of  heavenly  energies.  When 
I  would  soar,  I  fall  back  to  feel  I  lack  the 
power. 

Did  you  have  young  David's  God  .with  you 
last  Sabbath?  I  felt  a  good  spirit  of  prayer 
for  you.  Oh,  live  low  in  the  beautiful  valley 
"  where  the  dark  storms  of  envy  and  folly  roll 
on  their  billows  in  vain."  In  God  do  I  put  my 
trust.  He  is  my  rock.  Oh,  shall  I  stand  so 
frail  a  child  'mid  all  life's  billows,  and  when 
the  world  burns  ?  Oh,  Heaven  !  sweet  Heaven  ! 
I  sing,  there  is  our  final  home. 

I  hate  my  sinful  self, 

I  hate  my  narrow  thoughts  ; 
I  wish  nay  slothful  mind 

With  keener  powers  were  fraught. 


32  LIFE   AND   WRITINGS   OF 

I  long  to  be  engaged 
In  something  good  and  wise. 

And  far  from  groveling  sense, 
Be  soaring  toward  the  skies. 

I've  been  the  barren  tree, 
Content  with  bearing  leaves  ; 

No  froit  is  found  in  me  — 
My  mind  no  treasure  yields. 

1  feel  its  emptiness. 

And  sigh  for  higher  air ; 

I  long  to  feel  my  thoughtlessness 
Exchanged  for  holy  prayer." 


WRITTEN  IN  AN  ALBUM. 

A  simple  line  of  friendship 

In  this  fair  book  I  pen,. 
To  wake  in  thy  affections 

The  memory  of  thy  friend, 

And  when  thy  spirit  lingers, 
With  sadly  brooding  wings, 

O'er  hours  we've  spent  together 
In  merry  school-day  scenes, 

Then  know  that  in  tbis  bosom 
Kind  thoughts  of  thee  shall  dwell 

And  prayers  that  all  thy  footsteps 
By  Heaven  be  guarded  well. 

May  life's  resistless  sorrow 

Around  thee  gently  fait, 
And  draw  thy  trusting  spirit 

To  Him  who  reigns  o'er  all. 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   B.    COWELL.  33 

Till  death's  unwearied  pinions 

Shall  bear  tht-e  hence  away  ; 
Then  Oh,  for  a  reunion 

In  the  land  of  endless  day. 


WRITTEN  IN  AN  ALBUM. 

At  thy  request,  my  gentle  friend, 
On  this  fair  page  a  line  I  pen  ; 
And  hope,  as  here  my  name  you  trace, 
'Twill  find  in  thy  kind  heart  a  place. 

A  sunny  hour  of  life's  short  day 
'Mid  gladsome  smiles  we've  passed  away  ; 
With  prospects  Ikir,  and  spirits  light, 
We've  sipped  at  science's  fountain  bright. 

But  ah,  a  cloud  comes  o'er  our  brow  ; 
We  know  we  must  be  parted  now. 
Perchance,  through  life's  eventful  train, 
We  ne'er  may  meet  on  earth  again. 

Yet  there's  a  hope  we  cherish  yet, 
That  when  apart  we'll  not  forget, 
And  when  life's  pilgrimage  is  o'er 
We'll  meet  in  Heaven  to  part  no  more  ; 

Around  God's  throne  to  sing  his  praise, 
And  there  our  holy  anthems  raise  ; 
With  golded  harps  with  angels  sing, 
And  make  the  Heavenly  arches  ring. 


2* 


34  LIFE    AND   WRITINGS    OF 

LINES  BY  THE  LAKE-SIDE.— JAN.  5,  1841. 

TO  M\v  LONG-LOVED  AND  EVER-TO-BE-REMEMBERED  C.  B.  C. 

This  placid  lake,  so  gentle  girl, 

Be  emblem  of  thy  life  : 
As  full  of  peace  and  purity, 

As  free  from  storm  and  strife. 

No  ripple  on  its  tranquil  breast, 

That  dies  not  with  the  day  ; 
No  pebble  in  its  darkest  depths 

But  quivers  in  its  ray. 

And  see,  how  every  glorious  form, 

And  pageant  of  the  skies, 
Reflected  from  its  glassy  face, 

No  mirrored  mirage  lies. 

So  be  thy  spirit  ever  pure, — 

To  God,  to  virtue  given, — 
And  thought,  and  word,  and  action  bear 

The  imagery  of  Heaven. 

P.  C.  F. 

TO  D.  B.  COWELL. 

She  is  thine  ;  the  word  is  spoken  ; 

Hand  to  hand,  and  heart  to  heart, 
Though  all  other  ties  be  broken, 

Time  these  bonds  will  never  part. 


Thou  hast  taken  her  in  gladness 
From  the  altar's  holy  shrine  ; 

Oh  I  remember,  in  her  sadness 
She  is  thine,  and  only  thine. 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  35 

In  so  fair  a  temple  never 

Aught  of  ill  can  hope  to  come  ; 
Good  will  strive,  and  striving  ever, 

Make  so  poor  a  shrine  its  home. 

Each  the  other's  love  possessing, 

Say  that  care  should  cloud  that  brow  ; 

She  will  be  to  thee  a  blessing, 
And  a  shield  to  her  be  thou  1 

P.  C.  F. 


CONCISE   JOURNAL   FROM   THE    NUP- 
TIAL DAY. 

January  5th,  1841. — Gave  my  hand  to  the 
Rev.  D.  B.  Cowell.  It  was  a  scene  to  me 
solemn  and  affecting ;  the  crescent  moon  hung 
dimly  shrouded  in  vapor,  just  over  my  mother's 
grave  ;  the  guests  assembled  with  smiling  faces, 
stood  around  lavishing  their  good  wishes.  Ay, 
I  stood  a  bride,  where  alt  around  was  bright ; 
but  Oh,  I  wept.  Why  should  a  blessed  bride 
be  sad?  Ay,  thick  and  dark  were  the  groups 
of  thoughts  that  came  trooping  up  the  mind  that 
night.  I  thought  of  long-tried  friends,  that  I 
might  never  meet  again  ;  I  thought  of  the  loved 
resorts  at  my  lonely  hours,  the  parent's  parting 
blessing  —  they  give  me  up  forever  to  another. 
It  was  too  much  for  a  heart  so  young  as  mine. 
Oh,  let  me  weep,  I  sighed,  and  turned  away 


36  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS   OF 

from  the  cheerful  throng,  and  sought  again  my 
loved  retreat,  to  pour  out  to  God  my  swelling 
soul,  and  wisdom  seek  to  guide  in  the  adven- 
turous, untried  scenes  before  me.  Long  I 
plead  with  Heaven,  until  a  calm  unearthly  ra- 
diance shone  around,  and  my  whole  soul  whis- 
pered, Thy  will,  O  God,  be  done.  Guide  my 
youthful  soul. 

Wednesday. — The  relatives  of  my  new  com- 
panion leave  for  L.  Am  left  alone  to  the  in- 
dulgence of  my  own  thoughts  and  tender  recol- 
lections. Mr.  C.  spends  the  most  of  the  day 
in  my  society  in  conversation  and  reading. 

Thursday. — He  leaves  to  attend  some  meet- 
ings. 

Friday. — I  go  to  the  Bridge  to  the  protracted 
meeting  —  interesting  scene.  In  the  evening, 
at  home,  very  sad,  thinking  of  the  dear  associ- 
ates with  whom  I  had  often  met  in  the  school- 
room, that  I  had  taken  leave  of  during  the  day, 
with  the  consciousness  that  the  last  day  of  such 
enjoyment  was  past.  Although  the  dear  friends 
at  home  sat  by  me,  they  saw  not  the  tear,  and 
little  thought  of  the  tenderness  with  which  my 
heart  was  bursting  as  I  thought  of  the  past  and 
the  future.  Shall  I  leave  on  this  page  a  faint 
description  of  that  evening?  I  stood  by  my 
father's  kitchen  window,  the  stars  were  twink- 
ling, the  moon  slowly  arose  above  the  hills, 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  37 

casting  her  Ions:  shadow  along  the  street ;  the 
war  of  a  distant  stream  came  up  over  the  hill, 
swelled  by  the  recent  thaw,  and  made  a  low, 
mournful  music  on  the  still  air.  Again  and 
again  I  looked  far  down  the  street  to  see  the 
expected  return  of  my  nearest  friend,  with 
whom  my  destiny  was  now  forever  linked.  A 
little  across  the  fields,  where  two  mighty  oaks 
were  waving  in  the  moonbeams,  slept  in  a  long 
and  dreamless  slumber  my  own  dear  mother. 
I  was  bidding  a  long  adieu  to  my  loved  resort 
by  her  mouldering  dust.  The  reflections  of  the 
past,  the  murmuring  water,  the  delayed  return 
of  my  friend,  the  glimpse  at  the  graveyard,  all 
combined  filled  my  heart  with  feelings  I  may 
not  write.  Oh,  that  night  how  sad  yet  pleas- 
ant the  retrospect ! 

Saturday. — Mr  C.  returns,  goes  with  me  to 
the  C.  Chapel,  to  the  conference  to  which  I  had 
been  long  united,  and  with  wrhom  I  knew  my 
meetings  were  now  few.  Had  a  very  affecting 
time.  Asked  for  a  letter  of  dismission.  Yet 
I  feel  that  Christian  church  with  whom  I  had 
been  in  joys  and  trials  was  dear  to  my  heart. 
Many  were  the  Heavenly  sittings  together  I  had 
enjoyed  with  them. 

Sabbath. — Attended  with  Mr.  C.  his  appoint- 
ment at  the  Burrough.  The  Lord  was  there  of 
a  truth.  Praises  to  his  name  for  the  bliss  His 


38  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

Heavenly  presence  imparts !  In  the  evening 
good  meeting  at  South  Wolfeborough. 

Monday  spent  in  receiving  calls  and  prepar- 
ing for  leaving. 

Tuesday,  13th. — Very  much  engaged — made 
few  calls.  In  the  evening  two  cousins  came, 
and  spent  the  night. 

Wednesday  came  the  parting  hour.  My  dear 
and  only  brother  came,  with  tears  gave  me  his 
hand.  With  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  I 
threw  my  arms  about  his  neck,  imploring  him 
to  live  for  God,  and  make  sure  for  a  meeting  in 
Heaven,  where  we  should  never  part.  He  left 
for  school.  In  the  afternoon  prepared  to  leave. 
As  all  was  ready,  with  heart  swelled  with  tender 
and  anxious  emotions  that  I  never  before  knew, 
I  stole  away  to  the  spot  where  my  mother  died, 
fell  on  my  knees  to  ask  her  ministering  angel  to 
hover  over  her  inexperienced  child  going  out 
into  a  deceitful  and  untried  world.  With  deep 
feeling,  bid  adieu  to  home ;  arrived  at  L.  late 
in  the  evening,  covered  with  snow  that  began 
to  fall  at  the  close  of  the  day ;  felt  my  almost 
broken  heart  much  soothed  by  the  kindness  of 
my  husband  and  his  friends ;  spent  two  weeks 
very  pleasantly ;  made  some  evening  visits ; 
meanwhile  attended  several  meetings. 

Tuesday,  26th,  was  highly  rejoiced  at  the 
arrival  of  my  dear  brother  L.  In  the  evening 
visited  Mr.  Corson's. 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  39 

Wednesday  eve  meeting  at  Mr.  Home's.  My 
brother  was  once  more  engaged  in  religion ; 
felt  thankful  to  hear  his  voice  again  in  prayer. 
Oh,  that  the  Lord  might  be  round  about  him, 
a  wall  of  tire,  and  make  him  a  flaming  herald 
of  the  cross. 

Thursday. — My  brother  left  for  home  ;  soon 
after  we  took  leave  of  friends  at  L. ,  with  some 
tender  feelings  as  I  parted  with  them,  and  with 
clear,  still  air  without  and  a  quiet  spirit  within, 
rode  as  far  as  Rev.  D.  H.  Lord's.  Happy 
meeting,  pleasant  visit ;  felt  that  the  Lord  had 
a  dwelling  in  their  retired  home.  How  pleas- 
ant to  meet  and  hold  sweet  and  sympathizing 
converse  with  fellow-laborers  and  pilgrims  on 
the  way  ! 

Friday,  28th.—  Left  for  Bonny  Big  Hills; 
met  with  a  warm  reception  at  Brother  T.  Cutts'. 
Found  the  church  still  struggling  with  the  waves 
of  opposition  and  false  doctrine,  still  beating  up 
the  rough  stream  of  life  with  faces  Zionward. 
How  cheering  to  the  hearts  of  those  whom  God 
has  placed  as  watchmen  over  the  flock,  to  see 
the  young  lambs  growing  in  strength  and  wis- 
dom, and  loving  and  following  the  voice  of  the 
Shepherd  !  So  it  was  to  my  dear  companion, 
as  he  met  again  with  the  little  church  with 
which  and  for  which  he  labored  long  against 
persecution  and  trial.  The  Lord,  we  trust,  has 
a  garden  here. 


40  LIFE    AND   WRITINGS    OF 

Saturday,  3(M. — Visited.  In  the  evening 
met  for  prayer  and  conference  tit  the  meeting 
hou.se  lately  reared  where  little  more  than  twelve 
months  ago  hardly  a  Christian  heart  was  found. 
Great  is  the  wonder-working  name  of  the  Lord. 
When  His  breath  sweeps  over  the  desert  land 
it  will  blossom  as  the  rose  and  springs  of  living 
water  burst  forth.  Before  Him  the  hills  trem- 
ble, the  mountains  melt,  and  thick  darkness 
flees  away.  So  it  has  been  on  this  hill. 

/Sabbath,  3lst,  comes  with  a  glowing  sun 
throwing  an  unusual  splendor  over  the  far- 
stretching  prospect  before  us.  Sweet  and  last- 
ing were  the  emotions  of  adoration  and  love  to 
God  awakened  in  our  bosoms  as  we  looked  from 
the  summit  of  B.  B.  Hill,  over  the  white-robed 
landscape  before  us,  glittering  like  a  pearly  bed 
in  the  rising  sun-beams.  Far  to  the  east,  at 
the  extreme  extent  of  our  vision,  the  waters  of 
the  big  Atlantic  lay  along  the  horizon.  How 
soul  thrilling  is  a  considerate  glance  over  the 
sublime  works  of  nature  !  With  emotions  of 
gratitude  for  Sabbath  and  sanctuary  privileges, 
we  pursued  our  way  to  the  house  of  God,  that 
stood  like  a  beacon  upon  the  high  hill  that  over- 
looked the  sea  twelve  miles  distant.  After  a 
sermon  from  1  Cor.  chapter  xi.  verse  26,  Mr. 
C.  broke  bread  for  the  first  time  to  the  young 
church;  interesting  scene.  Met  again  in  the 


MRS.    CimiSTIAXA    B.    COWELL.  41 

evening.  Sermon  from  John  chapter  iii.  verse 
14.  The  spirit  of  the  Lord  rested  down  upon 
us.  Praises  to  His  name  for  one  more  visit 
from  the  Holy  One.  Saturday  night  tarried  at 
Squire  Weymouth's.  Highly  interesting  and 
pleasing  family  ;  enjoyed  the  visit  much  ;  some- 
what saddened,  however,  to  see  them  less 
engaged  than  formerly  in  the  work  of  the 
Lord. 

February  2nd.—  Went  to  Brother  D.  Chad- 
bourne's.  As  the  day  closed  the  clouds  thick- 
ened fast,  the  winds  blew  fierce,  and  the  snow 
began  to  come  in  large,  driving  flakes ;  so  we 
were  obliged  to  abandon  the  idea  of  going  to  an 
appointment  for  the  evening.  How  sweet  to- 
night the  confident  reliance  on  One  that  will 
lead  through  this  bleak  world  !  We  are  safely 
sheltered  in  the  quiet  home  of  a  good  brother, 
while  the  fierce  tempest  is  raging  without.  We 
have  naught  to  do  but  to  recount  the  mercies  of 
God,  and  give  up  our  hearts  in  gratitude  for 
home  and  kind  friends,  and  the  safety  we  feel 
in  His  Almighty  arms  of  protection,  and  feel 
deeply  anxious  to  be  more  given  up  to  God, 
and  reaoly  in  every  circumstance  to  say,  "Thy 
Avill  be  done,  however  it  may  cross  my  own. — 

POLLOK." 


42  LIFE    AND    WHITINGS    OF 


POETRY. 

Though  the  tempest  howl  around  us, 

And  life's  stormiest  hour  comes  on  ; 
Though  foes  and  dangers  thick  surround  us, 

Our  hearts  shall  say,  "  Thy  will  be  done." 

Though  the  flattering  dreams  of  youth 

Expire  before  us,  one  by  one, 
Earth  bright  hope  is  consumed  by  truth, 

Yet  still  we  say,  "  Thy  will  be  done." 

Though  far  from  home  and  early  friends, 

Strangers  in  stranger  lands  we  roam  ; 
Though  griefs  untried  our  bosom  rends, 

Yet  still  we  say,  "Thy  will  be  done." 

We  ask  not  pleasure's  syren  whisper, 

We  run  no  more  for  vain  renown  ; 
But  guided  by  the  Almighty  finger, 

Only  say,  "Thy  will  be  done." 

We  look  toward  yon  peaceful  Heaven, 

Around  the  eternal  spotless  throne  ; 
Wo  hope  to  rest  our  weary  spirits, 

When  Thy  will  in  us  is  done. 

Tuesday,  3d. — Visited  an  aged  pilgrim,  con- 
fined to  his  room  for  a  long  time.  How  satis- 
fying to  our  hearts  to  mark  the  calm  resignation 
that  seemed  resting  on  his  pale,  time-furrowed 
features  !  After  a  few  hours  of  religious  con- 
versation, in  which  we  endeavored  to  comfort 
with  the  promises  and  hopes  of  the  Christian, 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  43 

we  took  leave,  and  went  to  spend  the  night  at 
Brother  Hoard's.  Here  we  found  that  spirit 
that  knits  soul  with  soul  dwelling  richly  in  the 
heart  of  every  member.  Here  we  found  an 
aged  mother  in  Israel,  who  seemed  so  near  the 
borders  of  the  spirit-land,  that  she  seemed  to 
inhale  its  heavenly  air  and  breathe  its  holy  fra- 
grance. 

We  love  to  find  that  humble  home, 
Filled  with  followers  of  the  Lamb, 

Traveling  in  sweetest  union  on 
Toward  that  promised  better  laud. 


Tis  not  in  temples  decked  with  gold, 
The  Saviour  loves  to  dwell ; 

Tis  not  in  lofty  sculptured  walls 
He  loves  His  glories  to  reveal. 

But  to  the  humble  sons  of  earth, 
He  shows  His  smiling  face  ; 

Round  the  peasant's  homo!}-  hearth, 
He  finds  a  dwelling  place. 


Wednesday,  4th. — With  tears  and  prayers  for 
each  other's  welfare,  parted  with  the  very  kind 
family,  with  the  lovre  of  God,  we  trust,  re- 
kindled in  onr  hearts.  We  rode  off  Bony  Big 
Hill  toward  B.  Ridge.  The  scenery  although 
deep  snow  lay  on  the  ground  was  wild  and 
beautiful  in  the  extreme.  One  place  we 
passed  made  somewhat  a  pleasant  yet  melan- 


44  LIFE   AND    WRITINGS    OF 

choly  impression  on  our  mind.  Near  the  foot 
of  a  .wild,  high  hill,  near  the  border  of  a  thick 
forest,  far  from  any  inhabitant  stood  an  old 
mansion  just  tottering  to  its  fall.  In  its  open 
windows  and  doors  the  deep  snow  piled  undis- 
turbed, except  by  the  wild  hare  or  fox  that 
might  come  to  claim  dominion.  An  extraordi- 
nary large  rock  stood  near  the  shattered  house 
that  added  much  to  the  dreary  yet  interesting 
scenery.  Here,  methinks,  at  summer's  even- 
tide, the  youth  with  poetic  spirits  fired,  would 
come  and  sing  of  kingdoms'  rise  and  fall ;  of 
life's  gay,  pompous  adventures,  succeeded  by 
desolation  and  waste.  In  this  old  house,  they 
tell  me,  long  ago  the  miser  hoarded  up  his 
gold  and  taught  children  to  think  that  there 
could  not  be  bliss  without. 

But  to  leave  the  old  building,  we  entered 
the  forest  near,  that  was  no  less  striking,  the 
tallest  pines  I  ever  noticed,  stretching  up  their 
lofty  heads,  and  waving  them  toward  heaven 
in  praise  and  reverence  to  God.  Our  road  lay 
a  long  way  through  this  mystic  wood,  through 
which  we  passed,  often  exclaiming,  How  won- 
derful the  works  of  God  !  how  soul  elevatino- 

O 

to  gaxe  upon  !  After  emerging  from  the  wood, 
the  cold  winds  blew  fearfully,  filling  the  street 
and  air  with  snow;  for  once  I  began  to  feel 
the  missionary's  woe  —  a  pilgrim  through  chilly 


MHS.    CHRISTIANA   B.    COWELL.  45 

* 

winds  and  storms,  yet  short;  ere  the  sun  went 
down  reached  a  wealthy  old  farmer,  viz,  P. 
Hall  ;  kindly  received.  In  the  evening  other 
visitors  came  in,  formed  many  new  and  pleasant 
acquaintances,  somewhat  entertained  by  the 
sociability  of  the  erect,  majestic  looking  matron 
of  the  house,  who  gave  long  minute  details  of 
her  childhood's  play-house,  her  father's  counter, 
and  change  trunk,  and  her  marketing  adven- 
tures, &c.  Promising  children  ;  some  religion. 
Thursday,  oth. —  Visited  Esq.  H.  who  I 
imagined  looked  some  like  Jacob  Fort f til,  a 
school  Domino.  He  seemed  to  be  living  in  a 
heap  of  newspapers,  politics,  religion  and 
cider.  Very  kindly  entertained,  dined,  and 
left  for  J.  Hall's ;  found  a  very  kind  family. 
Mr.  C.  leaves  me  to  go  to  L.  on  church  busi- 
ness. A  stranger  in  a  strange  land,  yet  the 
kindness  of  the  family  made  me  forget  my 
loneliness  ;  spent  the  day  in  meditation,  prayer, 
and  conversation  with  Mrs.  H.,  lady  of  the 
house.  In  the  evening  the  children  returned 
from  school ;  were  all  grouped  round  me.  I 
tried  to  converse  profitably  with  them.  May 
kind  Heaven  preserve  these  promising  ones 
from  the  snares  of  the  world  ! 


46  LIFE   AND   WRITINGS   OF 


AGAIN  ALONE. 

This  moon-lit  night  while  all  alone 

Memory  is  leading  out  her  train, 
Far  distant  loved  and  cherished  ones 

Speak  Christiana's  name  again. 
Again  I  see  that  mother's  smile 

As  she  was  wont  when  on  the  earth, 
I  hear  her  voice  so  weak,  so  mild, 

As  once  around  home's  distant  hearth. 
O  fearful  thought  come  o'er  me  now, 

The  thought  that  truest  hearts  are  dead, 
That  these  cold  winds  of  winter  blow 

Where  that  faithful  friend  is  laid. 
Long  she's  slumbered  out  of  sight, 

In  vain  I  sought  that  cordial  love, 
But  Oh,  beyond  earth's  dreamy  night, 

I  hope  to  meet  in  worlds  above. 
Now  Father  guard  me  while  I  sleep 

Maj  that  mother's  spirit  come, 
Her  faithful  vigils  round  me  keep 

And  tell  me  of  her  far  off  home. 

Saturday,  6th. —  Mr.  C.  returns,  we  call  on 
a  good  sister  Stillings,  from  there  to  brother 
Hanscom's,  find  here  a  large  family,  all  as  the 
heart  of  one  man  journeying  onward.  Two  old 
ladies  apparently  about  to  put  off  dull  and 
sickly  mortality,  with  bright  prospects  of  that 
heaven  where  they  will  bloom  in  eternal  youth. 
I  wept  as  I  heard  old  mother  Hanscom  speak 
of  the  visible  hand  of  God  leading  and  bearing 
her  through  the  world,  from  childhood  to  the 
grave's  brink.  Truly  the  ark  of  the  Lord 
rests  in  this  house. 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  47 

Sabbath,  7th. — Lovely  morning,  most  lovely  ; 
went  to  meeting  on  B.  Ridge.  Sermon  from 
Cor.,  chapter  ii.  verse  1.  Dined  tit  J.  Fernald's. 
Afternoon,  sermon  from  Matt.,  chapter  xxvi, 
verse  58.  After  services,  went  to  very  good 
Brother  H's ;  felt  much  depression  of  spirit, 
felt  that  I  was  not  enough  engaged  in  the  work 
of  the  Lord.  Oh,  when  will  this  heaviness  be 
overpast?  The  billows  of  gloom,  doubt  and 
temptation  do  well  nigh  go  over  me.  I  would 
know  of  a  truth  if  the  pillar  is  going  before  me 
that  will  lead  me  to  the  promised  land. 

In  the  evening  met  again  ;  felt  more  freedom 
of  spirit ;  tarried  at  Brother  D.  Feruald's. 
Here,  too,  an  altar  of  prayer  wras  erected, 
where  went  up  morning  and  evening  sacrifice. 
Was  much  amused  and  pleased  with  the  benev- 
olent feeling  of  the  little  daughter  five  years  of 
age,  who  was  anxious  to  show  her  love  to  her 

O      ~ 

preacher,  by  presenting  us  with  a  pair  of  hens 
that  had  been  her  constant  and  unceasing  care. 
With  tender  feeling,  parted,  set  out  for  home 
at  the  closing  of  the  day ;  arrived  at  Great 
Falls,  spent  the  night  with  dear  Mrs.  Cottle  ; 
happily  entertained  ;  ensuing  day  accompanied 
by  Mr.  C.  visited  the  shops  and  manufactories 
—  very  happy.  Afternoon,  left  for  home  —  a 
very  pleasant  ride. 

Wednesday,   10th. —  Rather   low  in  spirits; 


48  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

feel  a  heaviness  coming  over  ray  mind  ;  I  know 
not  why  coming.  I  know  not  whence ;  still  feel 
that  in  Heaven  is  my  trust.  Call  from  Brother 
Davis. 

Thursday. —  Somewhat  a  free  access  to  the 
Throne  of  Grace.  Domestic  cares  engross  my 
mind.  A  call  from  Brother  Dore  of  Alton. 

Friday,  12th. —  Call  on  Mrs.  B.  find  her 
very  feeble.  Evening,  make  calls. 

/Saturday  13th. —  Leave  L.  for  North  Ber- 
wick. Call,  and  receive  in  company  Sister 
Lord  ;  took  tea  at  Brother  Hammond's  ;  found 
his  health  improving ;  tarried  at  Squire  Wey- 
mouth's. 

/Sabbath,  l^th. —  With  prayers  for  the  pres- 
ence of  the  great  Master  of  Assembles,  Sister 
Lord  arose  and  addressed  a  large  assembly 
from  Isaiah,  chapter  xxxv,  verse  4.  In  the 
afternoon  she  spoke  again,  from  Gen.,  chapter 
iv.  verse  7.  The  spirit  seemed  to  make  power- 
ful the  weak.  She  spake  as  one  having  au- 
thority. We  trust  the  solemn  truths  from  her 
lips  sank  deep.  Oh,  that  Heaven  may  be 
round  her  and  bear  her  up !  Solemn  meeting 
in  the  evening. 

Monday,  15th. —  In  a  retired  room,  by  a 
cheerful  tire,  while  the  cc-ld  winds  blow  mourn- 
fully around,  we  sit  in  the  peaceful  enjoyment 
of  our  books,  pens  and  paper.  What  unmer- 


MUS.    CHinSTlAKA    B.    COWELL.  49 


iled  favors  we  daily  receive!     A  fearful   cold 


night. 


IGtA.  —  Take  an  affectionate  leave 
of  Brother  Cults'  family;  cull  and  dine  at 
Brother  Stephen  Falls'.  -Here  we  find  ourselves 
with  n  n  interesting  and  kind  family,  Was 
highly  gratified  with  the  narration  the  aged 
white-headed  man  gave  of  his  iirst  trying  the 
blunt  end  of  the  world.  My  aged  sire,  dying, 
said  he,  left  me  friendless  and  homeless,  a  boy 
of  sixteen.  I  was  obliged  to  go  forth  into  the 
wild  unsettled  world  around  me.  I  first 
thought  I  would  go  and  lose  myself  in  the  din 
of  war,  which  was  then  raging  on  the  American 
shores.  Again  I  thought  of  my  youth  and 
inexperience,  and  again  I  resolved  I  would  try 
the  salt  sea.  I  stepped  alioard  a  ship  bound  to 
the  West  Indies.  Not  many  days  were  I  on 
the  water  before  we  were  taken  by  one  of  the 
Majfsly's  vessels,  and  thrust  in  the  prison  at 
Halifax,  though  not  without  some  hope  of 
liberty  by  exchange  of  prisoners,  as  was  the 
custom.  But  soon  these  hopes  were  blasted. 
We  were  unexpectedly  taken,  when  we  thought 
we  were  escaping,  by  a  press  gang  and  carried 
on  board  an  Admiral's  ship.  Many  were  the 
*(.-tr>  which  i  shed,  and  great  bitterness  of  soul 
and  pain  and  suffering,  from  cold  and  exposure 
whi<-h  I  endured.  My  feet  were  frozen,  my 


.50  LIFE    AND    WHITINGS    OF 

allowance  small.  After  various  servile  em- 
ployments, cutting  vessels  from  ice,  or  serving 
the  crew,  I  was  made  skipper  of  the  Jolly  Boat 
belonging  to  one  of  the  British  vessels  lying  in 
Penobscot  Bay.  One- day  after  carrying  a  gen- 
tleman on  shore,  while  he  was  engaged  in 
business,  n  thought  that  then  I  might  make  my 
escape,  outweighed  every  sense  of  duty,  and  be 
once  more  in  my  native  woods.  I  plunged 
into  the  thick  forest,  every  moment  looking, 
expecting  the  foe.  One  moment  the  howling 
of  the  beast  assailed,  the  next  the  roaring  of  the 
wind  would  start  me.  I  would  run  with  all 
my  strength  more  than  a  hundred  miles.  I 
wandered  towards  my  home.  Only  one  framed 
house  I  entered,  the  man  seemed  stern  and 
hard,  making  every  possible  enquiry.  After 
hearing  my  story  he  says  that  aged  Grandsire 
with  whom  you  lived  was  an  old  familiar 
friend.  Imagine  then,  says  the  old  man,  my 
joy  to  hear  one  kind  word  and  feel  I  was  with 
«i  true  friend.  His  cold  sternness  softened  to 
the  tenderest  kindness,  they  fed,  clothed  and 
cheered  me,  dressed  the  wounds  of  my  frozen 
feet,  and,  says  he,  stay  as  long  as  you  wish. 
How  reviving  none  that  was  never  turned  on 
the  cold  world  can  ever  tell.  Soon  I  left,  and 
again  found  myself  in  my  native  town  of  B. 
Still  here  I  had  no  right,  no  home,  though 


MKS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO\\  KLL.  51 

friends.  Again  I  tried  the  sea ;  earned  a 
little  at  the  end  of  the  year  ;  after  all  expenses 
paid,  had  in  my  hand  sixty  crowns.  With  it  I 
began  the  world  ;  entered  this  wilderness  and 
made  a  home.  Now  he  is  surrounded  with 
respectable  children,  all  with  an  independent 
future. 

The  tear  stood  on  the  old  man's  eye  as  he 
pave  God  the  praise  for  leading  him  through 
life's  rough  journey,  just  to  the  grave,  where 
soon  he  will  lie  down  in  peace.  Sweet  be  the 
slumbers  of  that  good  old  man  !  At  the  close 
of  the  day  I  arrived  at  home. 

Wednesday,  lltti. — In  very  good  spirits; 
stormy  day.  Thanks  to  kind  Providence  for 
good  homes  and  kind  friends  !  Oh,  the  debt 
of  gratitude  I  owe  I  can  never  pay.  Oh,  for 
Humility  I 

Thursday,  \8th. — Very  cold.  Last  night 
received  a  pleasant  visit  from  Brother  Mills,  u 
young  man  of  talent,  called  of  God  to  leave 
all  and  go  forth  into  the  world  ;  but  he  is  in 
trouble,  doubting  and  darkness.  Would  there 
were  more  laborers  in  this  holy  cause  1 

Frid.'tij,  I'Jth. — Attended  funeral  of  old  Mr. 
C'opp.  Sermon  by  Elder  Blaisdell.  In  the 
evening  felt  much  anxiety  for  the  apparent 
depression  of  D.  I  feel  deeply  rm"  insuffi- 
ciency to  till  my  place.  Oh,  for  a  more  de- 


52  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

voted,  faithful  heart, —  to  bo  all  I  should  be  to 
those  around  me. 

/Saturday,  20th. — My  dear  D.  leaves  for  15; 
receive  calls  and  answer  letters.  Evening. 
For  once  I  feel  that  home  is  lonely.  The  sol- 
emn, incontrovertible  truth  I  have  so  often 
hoard  comes  heavily  upon  me,  that  a  preacher's 
wife  must  see  many  hours  of  grief,  loneliness, 
and  anxiety  :  yet  my  humble  soul  shall  say, 
"Even  so,  Father."  I  have  a  bliss,  a  calmness 
of  spirit  that  makes  one  welcome  every  trial. 
Grace. 

/Sabbath,  21st.—  Fine  day.  Heard  Elder  E. 
Blaisdell.  Rather  a  dark  time ;  interest  de- 
clining. When  shall  we  see  a  rise  in  Zion 
here?  Her  walls  are  broken,  her  watchmen 
divided.  My  heart  dies  within  me  ;  I  know 
not  what  to  do.  Who  of  ns  will  stand  the 
great  ordeal  !  who  will  abide  the  coming  of  the 
Lord  ! 

3fonday. — Cold  ;  busy  evening.  Joyfully 
welcomed  Mr.  C.  Glad  to  learn  the  Lord  has 
been  with  him  to  bear  him  up. 

Tuesday,  23rd. — Pleasant  visit  from  dear 
Mrs.  Cottle  and  Freeman.  In  the  evening  my 
dear  father  makes  ns  a  visit  with  other  friends. 
Wkdn&aday,  '2±th. — Feel  to  thank  Heaven 
for  a  pious  father,  to  come  to  comfort  and  en- 
courage ;  happy  to  hear  him  pray  again. 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  53 

Thursday,  2oth. — Good  meeting  in  the  even- 
ing at  T.  Legro's.  Sermon  by  Father  Coffin, 
from  Malaehi  3d  chapter.  "And  they  shall  be 
mine,"  &c.  ;  good  time. 

Friday,  26th. — Went  to  Milton  protracted 
meeting;  interesting  scene.  Sermons  by  Elders 
Meader,  Coffin  and  Winter.  Not  quite  wisdom 
enough.  "  They  that  win  souls  are  wise."  Oh, 
for  a  pure  ministry  ! 

Saturday. — The  snow  comes  thick  and  fast. 
Vnnsual  enjoyment  of  mind,  yet  fear  we  are 
not  enough  in  the  valley,  and  looking  beyond 
earth  and  its  to-day  happiness. 

Saturday  evening. — What  have  I  done  this 
swift-flown  week,  that  is  recorded  for  good  in 
Heaven?  How  rapid  whirl  the  wheels  of  time  ! 
I  am  thinking,  but  yesterday  a  child,  with  toys 
and  straws, —  to-day,  passing  into  grave  woman- 
hood already.  Twelve  weeks  since  I  put  off 
the  airy,  giddy  dreams  of  girlhood,  to  give  my- 
self forever  to  the  sweet,  quiet,  domestic  life. 
Oh,  how  inexperienced,  young  and  unfit  to  be 
the  wife  of  God's  ambassador,  who  should  bo 
a  living  example  to  all  the  world  ! 

S'tblwth,  Feb.  2$th. — Attended  meetings  at 
the  Ponds.  Sermon  by  Father  Coffin.  After- 
noon, by  Mr.  E.  Scott  (colored).  Meeting  con- 
tinues on  from  day  to  day.  The  mighty  power 
begins  to  move  all  through  the  village,  and  the 


54  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

stout-hearted  are  bowing.  Oh,  for  more  power  ! 
The  rumsellers  and  drinkers  begin  to  sec  their 
wrong.  Here,  fifty-five  years  the  monster  in- 
temperance has  been  enthroned,  enslaving  and 
destroying  its  hundreds.  On  the  eve  of  the 
fourth  of  March,  a  large  body  of  people  were 
crowded  into  the  meeting-house, —  nearly  fifty 
of  those  who  were  just  starting  for  heaven  were 
seated  together, 'some  speaking  of  the  goodness 
of  God,  when  very  unexpectedly  the  only  rum- 
seller  in  the  place  —  one  who  knew  not  God  — 
came  to  the  altar  and  stood  before  the  multi- 
tude. High  beat  every  heart  at  that  moment ; 
deliberately  and  decisively  he  renounced  the 
long-acknowledged  evil.  I  have  taken  chil- 
dren's bread,  said  he,  to  clothe  and  feed  my 
own  :  I  have  caused  misery  in  the  extreme  —  I 
know  it.  If  it  rests  with  me  to  put  rum  out  of 
the  place  once  for  over  fifty  years,  I  do  it.  If 
I  fail,  I  fail.  I  will  sell  no  more  rum.  Amen  ! 
Praise  to  God  !  Thank  Heaven  !  ran  through 
the  house.  Never  did  Milton  experience  such  a 
joyful  scene  as  this.  Long  be  remembered 
that  lovely  evening,  and  the  noblelike  step  of 
the  young  trader.  Next  day,  might  be  seen 
groups  of  happy  men  again  enter  the  store  so 
long  passed,  and  aiding  in  rolling  from  out  the 
hoard  the  dismal  casks.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Willey 
was  so  happy  he  shouted  for  joy,  giving  every 


MHS.    CHRISTIANA    K.    COWELL.  50 

one's  hand  a  hearty  shako  of  congratulation. 
A  day  of  rejoicing.  Truly  at  lust  the  countless 
prayers  of  God's  people  here  are  heard.  Sing, 
O  earth,  Heaven  and  all  therein  take  up  the 
joyful  strain  !  Measures  were  taken  by  con- 
federacy of  the  people  to  prevent  any  spirit 
being  sold  within  the  place.  Light  is  spread- 
ing ;  men  reforming ;  grace  abounding ;  hope 
reviving;  the  poor  rejoicing;  God  victorious, 
inarching  through  the  desert  waste,  where  the 
slain,  the  wrecked  and  cast  oft' are  many.  The 
prospect  is  soul-cheering.  As  others  leave, 
Mr.  C.  becomes  the  chief  laborer.  Twenty  or 
more  already  converted,  twenty-live  or  thirty 
anxious. 

Friday,  bth. — Feel  discharged  for  awhile ; 
notwithstanding  much  persuasion  to  stay ;  feel 
duty  to  go  home.  Oh,  for  humility  and  wis- 
dom—  pleasant  without  and  peaceful  within. 

Sabbath  morning. presents  a  drear}'  prospect. 
The  snow  lies  in  deep  piles  around  us,  the 
winds  blowing  drearily,  the  doors  are  closed, 
the  world  all  shut  out  —  loved  and  long-desired 
'  seclusion.  To-day  a  scene  of  unusual  interest 
and  melancholy  pleasure.  Despite  our  efforts 
to  stay  our  thoughts  in  Heaven,  they  did  go 
out  far  back  over  the  swift-flown  years  of  ear- 
lier life.  Of  home,  of  friends,  of  the  happy 
years  of  pupilship,  I  thought,  till  the  pang  of 


56  LIFE    AXD    WRITINGS    OF 

half  joy,  half  woe,  was  deeply  twanging  this 
heart's  fine  chords,  Heaven,  I  trust,  has  thus 
far  directed  my  steps.  I  feel  that  it  will.  1 
will  not  wish  for  their  return.  Though  more 
sober  and  dreariless  ray  path,  if  it  but  lead  to 
the  flowery  plains  ot  the  spirit  world,  I  journey 
gladly  on.  One  star  forever  fixed,  I  have  one 
friend  forever  mine,  I  trust.  A  world  of 
charms,  a  multitude  of  flattering  summer  friends 
exchanged  for  one  who  knows  no  alienation  by 
affliction,  grows  more  faithful,  is  gain  incal- 
culable. Sabbath  evening,  how  solemn  ! 

Monday. — Received  a  call  from  Brother  Mills. 

Tuesday  evening,  met  with  a  large  social 
circle  at  neighbor  It's.  Very  interesting  ;  made 
much  more  so  by  the  presence,  talent  and  good 
spirits  of  old  Elder  John  Bu/zel,  who  has  been 
a  watchman  on  Zion's  walls  for  more  than  fifty 
years.  Prayers  and  singing  —  pleasant. 

Wednesday,  $th. — Set  oar  faces  for  the  first 
time  towards  home,  my  own  dear  home.  Called 
at  Middleton.  Clamorous  voices,  red  eyes, 
ragged,  rude  boys  were  too  true  symptoms  of  the 
character  of  the  place.  Oh,  when  will  the 
the  heavy  clouds  of  moral  darkness  be  lifted  off 
our  land  !  Riding  a  short  distance,,  by  the  way- 
side, on  a  bank  of  snow,  lay  a  cluster  of  empty 
rum-jugs.  Whence  and  what  are  ye,  fearful 
things?  To  how  many  a  dying  heart  have  ye 


MKS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    OOWELL.  57 

borne  the  last  drug  of  bitterness  !  To  how 
many  a  thorny  pillow  have  ye  borne  the  last 
prick,  .sharp  and  piercing,  that  would  be  set 
there  !  And  where  are  those  whose  loved  bur- 
den ye  were  ?  Ay,  it  may  be  that  thy  fellowship 
with  man  is  broken  ;  that  he  has  found  the 
poisoned  drug  that  the  sparkling  treasure  hides, 
and  flung  thee  to  the  snows  and  winds.  Happy 
the  man  !  Here  may  ye  crumble  !  Here  may 
blast  after  blast  sweep  over  the  desolate  bottle. 
We  trust  they  alone  will  kiss  thy  lip,  and  thy 
former  companions  bid  good-bye  to  rum-bottles 
thrown  on  a  snow  bank. 

Ere  the  sun  slides  down  the  sky,  am  folded 
in  the  arms  of  my  loved  kindred.  How  thrill- 
ing, as  I  retire  again  to  my  long  empty  cham- 
ber, the  sensation  awakened.  Here  by  my 
window,  many  a  long  summer  evening  alone  I 
sat,  with  wrapt  soul,  gazing  on  the  splendid 
scenery  of  the  fragrant  moon-li£  earth  and  be- 
spangled heavens.  Then  a  thought  of  parting 
days,  of  going  a  stranger  in  the  wide  world,  of 
bearing  with  a  laborer  in  Christ's  vineyard  the 
burden  in  the  heat  of  the  day,  which  never  had 
ruffled  the  calm  of  my  young  bosom.  I  low  sweet 
these  hours  of  contemplation,  when  to  me  earth 
and  heaven  met ;  and  as  I  looked  out  into  the 
clear  blue  vault,  my  charmed  mind  would  catch 
the  music  of  the  celestial  spheres,  would  pene- 

3* 


58  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

trate  the  srauze  that  covered  Heaven's  host,  and 

O 

behold  the  myriads  with  their  golden  harps, 
moving  in  marshal  lines  along  the  ethereal 
plain  !  What  thought  I  then  of  earth,  of  names, 
of  beauty's  charms,  of  passion's  flame,  of  pleas- 
ure's witching  wiles  ?  All  to  me  were  idle  tales. 
I  could  not  bear  that  aught  of  earth  should  come 
and  steal  away  a  moment  of  such  holy  —  was 
it?  aye,  it  was  —  spell-bound  musings.  Angels, 
methonght,  did  visit  me !  And  though  my 
heart  is  filled,  my  eyes  swimming  in  tears,  at 
these  remembrances,  I  would  not  go  back  the 
tide  of  life  and  live  those  scenes  again.  It  is 
not  always  to  live  in  fancy's  flowery  world,  to 
feel  the  heart  grow  sick  of  scenes  that  charm 
the  world,  and  turn  from  social  beings  to  live  in 
worlds  of  our  creation.  No!  Let  me  go  with 
prayerful,  holy  heart,  to  bear  a  balm  to  some 
lone  child  of  sorrow  !  Let  me  pursue  the  plain, 
sober  path  of  cTuty,  to  God  and  man,  and  seek 
rather  to  enjoy  life  because  I  make  it  useful, 
than  to  scorn  it  because  it  has  not  room  for  my 
swelling  imaginations  ;  and  learn,  rather  than 
wish  life  closed,  I  should  prize  each  moment, 
because  I  may  be  doing  and  getting  good,  that 
I  might  really  enter  the  world  where  fancy 
loves  to  wander  and  gaze  with  eye  undimmed 
on  the  rich  glories  I  had  imagined.  Oh,  for  a 
meek  and  quiet  spirit  to  suffer  with  Christ  on 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    OOWELL.  59 

earth,  that  I  might  reign  with  him  in  Heaven  ! 
But  stop,  my  pen. 

/Saturday,  l"2th. —  Fearful  storm  all  clay. 
Evening  rather  sad  and  lonely.  The  rattling 
winds  make  doleful  music  to  a  lonely  heart. 

/Sabbath,  13th. —  Feel  some  sinking  into  the 
kind  arms  of  my  Heavenly  Father ;  desire, 
more  than  riches,  honor,  love  or  beauty,  to  feel 
myself  approved  unto  God.  What  sacrifice 
shall  I  make,  what  course  shall  I  bend  my 
feelings  and  thoughts,  to  attain  to  that  state  of 
calm,  unshaken  confidence  in  God,  and  an 
assurance  of  my  acceptance  with  Him?  How 
unusually  empty  and  cheerless  the  world  looks 
to-day  !  I  feel  less  like  seeking  the  favor  of 
man  than  God.  Oh,  for  a  thorough  purifying 
of  soul,  for  a  moulding  into  the  image  of 
Christ !  His  I  would  be. 

REMEMBERED  IDEAS  FROM  ABBOT. 

Read  to-day  Mr.  Abbot's  "Young  Christian." 
Some  ideas  gathered,  viz;  —  That  we  should 
make  every  event,  trial  especially,  a  means  of 
testing  and  improving  our  moral  character. 
A  man  launching  a  new-made  steam-boat  would 
be  constantly  viewing  and  correcting  the  ma- 
chinery—  make  more  safe  the  engine,  and 
assuring  himself  that  all  is  well ;  white  an- 


(Id  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

other  might  seat  him  on  deck,  enjoy  a  .line  sail, 
and  the  admiration  and  applause  of  his  splendid 
boat  from  the  beholders  on  shore,  while  the 
new  machinery  may  be  deficient,  and  an  ex- 
plosion ensue,  the  vanity-swollen  man  and  his 
fine  boat  be  stove  in  pieces. 

Thus  man,  as  he  passes  along  the  tide  of  life, 
may  live  ever  down  at  the  main  spring  of  action, 
at  the  bottom  of  the  l>oat,  and  mark  well  how 
every  gale  and  tide  of  life  affects  the  operation 
of  the  intellectual  and  moral  machinery ;  and 
thus  make  sure  ground  work  for  a  correct 
character  and  pleasing  deportment.  Again, 
he  may  strive  for  fine  appearance,  the  applause 
of  the  world;  while  the  principle,  the  internal 
machinery,  grows  discordant  and  unable  at  last 
to  bear  up  and  carry  along  steadily  the  heavy 
sails  and  top  work.  A  great  and  humbling 
downfall  is  the  result  of  neglect  of  the  heart. 
Again,  we  cannot  call  up  feelings  by  direct 
effort,  but  it  is 'discipline  of  mind  and  consider- 
ation which  enables  us  to  gain  a  desired  frame  of 
mind.  Importance  of  reading  slow  and  care- 
fully, satisfaction  of  journal  writing,  &c. 

Sabbath  evening. — Mr.  C.  attends  meeting  at 
South  Village. 

Monday,  Ikth. —  Reading  and  conversation 
with  the  family  ;  much  enjoyment  of  kindred 
association. 


MRS.    CinnsTIAXA    B.    COWELL.  <>1 

l~>f/i. —  Went  again  to  the  protracted  meet- 
ing: more  interesting  than  usual. 

Thursday,  \Qth. —  Realize  another  parting 
with  friends  at  home,  especially  in  leaving  my 
dear  sister  C.  alone.  I  bid  adieu  to  scenes  so 
long  so  familiar  and  dear,  and  go  to  a  home 
among  strangers.  Yet  I  have  a  friend  to  soothe 
and  teach  me  to  turn  my  thoughts  from  earthly 
deprivation  to  the  full  fruition  of  hope,  to  the 
joyful  reward  for  self-denial  and  labor  on  earth, 
in  the  expected  land  of  rest  —  the  home  for  all 
God's  people. 

Sabbath,  19th.  —  Go  to  the  house  of  God; 
come  home  sad  and  sorrowful  at  heart.  How 
long,  O  Lord,  wilt  them  forget  us?  when  will 
our  warfare  be  accomplished?  when  will  Zion's 
oppressors  be  removed,  and  the  sweet  voice  of 
the  Shepherd  call  the  scattered  flock  together. 
Evening,  feel  to  cast  all  on  the  blessed  Friend 
of  man,  that  he  will  work  all  things  for  our 
good.  How  sweet  to  pray  to  God,  to  bow  in 
humble  obedience  and  reverence  before  His 
throne,  and  send  up  our  souls  through  the  stilly 
air  of  night  far  above  earth's  jars  and  turmoils  ! 
Yes,  we  can  awhile  forget,  and  love  and  wor- 
ship God  alone. 

1  am  spared  to  begin  another  week.  I  want 
wisdom  to  conduct  my  inexperienced  feet. 
Oh,  what  a  useless,  inexperienced  being  I  feel 


G2  LIFE    AND    WRITING*    OF 

myself!  In  Heaven  is  my  trust,  and  from 
thence  I  expect  direction.  Thine,  I  am,  1113^ 
God. 

Tuesday,  22nd.  —  Happy  child  am  I !  A 
bright  sunny  sky  over  my  head,  pleasant  scenes 
and  friends  around  me.  How  .  undeserving  ! 
Sabbath  has  again  come.  Oh,  that  I  could  go 
and  sit  under  the  holy  droppings  of  the  sanc- 
tuary, and  feel  that  it  was  sweet  to  my  taste, 
where  every  heart  beat  in  unison  in  the  holy 
breathings  which  such  a  day  should  call.  But 
Oh,  there  is  a  fearful  wrong  —  my  heart  is 
pained.  I  know  not  Avhat  to  do.  Scores  that 
are  well  fitted  to  constitute  the  house  of  God 
are  lying  dormant  and  useless.  To-day  many 
that  might  till  the  house  of  God,  and  enjoy  a 
heavenly  sitting  together,  and  feel  their  hearts 
as  the  heart  of  one  man  lying  upon  the  altar  of 
God,  are  hovering  round  their  own  firesides, 
or  wandering  heedless  over  their  lands,  their 
utility  to  the  world  unknown,  their  noble 
powers  of  mind  sinking,  the  tide  of  divine 
knowledge  rolling  back,  dammed  up  by  im- 
passible, immovable  clogs  of  superstition  ;  and 
may  I  not  suppose  it  self-righteousness  ?  Why 
this  woeful  desolation  in  this  moral  vicinity? 
The  house  of  God  is  not  pure.  The  leaders  of 
the  flock  are  strolling  in  the  woods  of  ignorance, 
and  sipping  at  the  streams  of  self-will,  turning 


MRS.    CHRIST!  XXA    15.    COWELL.  G3 

to  catch  the  breezes  of  public  applause.  Is  it 
thus  ?  The  flocks  have  ceased  to  come  at  the 
powerless,  monotonous  call  of  the  shepherd, 
are  scattered  on  every  hill,  seeking  other  pas- 
tures, where  are  streams  that  never  dry  and 
water  that  will  ever  refresh.  Well,  what  does 
all  of  this  writing  mean?  Am  I  wrong  in  my 
ideas  ? 

Monday. —  Reading  J.  W.  Xevens'  Biblical 
Antiquities.  Find  it  pleasing  in  being  borne 
in  mind  to  the  once  glorious  regions  of  Pales- 
tine, to  stand  beneath  its  lofty,  verdant  moun- 
tains ;  its  flourishing  vineyards ;  its  weeping 
valleys,  flowing  with  oil  .and  wine ;  to  stand 
again  in  its  deep  caverns  by  nature  formed, 
where  our  Savious  at  times  rested  his  weary 
head  or  turned  away  to  pour  out  his  sorrows 
before  his  Father.  Again  I  hear  the  mighty 
rushing  of  waters,  as  the  melting  snows  come 
from  the  mountains,  and  soon  tind  them  gurg- 
ling streams  at  the  feet.  I  gaze  in  thought  on 
the  streams,  the  mountains,  the  waves  and 
deserts,  where  the  man  of  sorrow  wandered, 
the  hill  from  which  he  ascended,  and  lost  in 
distance,  rising  still,  goes  away  from  his  scenes 
of  trial  to  the  long  distant  home  of  his  Father, 
and  feel  my  soul  gathering  new  incentives  to 
the  prosecution  of  the  holy  yet  self-crossing 
journey  that  leads  to  the  same  happy  regions, 


64  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

of  which  the  matchless  Canaan  is  but  the  faint- 
est emblem. 

31s£. — Temperance  lecture  by  Elder  T. 
Stevens. 

Ihursday. — Lowering  sky,  thick  coming 
snow.  Oh,  how  melancholy !  The  winds 
moan  like  a  funeral  dirge.  It  seems  as  though 
they  continually  whisper,  All  is  passing  away  ; 
empty  and  transient  is  the  svorld's  enjoyment. 
Begin  to  think  the  voice  of  perishing  souls  is 
calling  away  from  the  long,  quiet  retreat  of 
home  to  bear  a  living  balm  to  the  lost  and  dying. 
Feel  that  we  can  go  forth,  weeping  over  the 
fallen,  and  praying  for  the  saving,  all-powerful 
spirit  of  God  to  go  with  us  and  direct  our  path. 
How  can  we  mid  rest  and  happiness,  when  the 
solemn  thought  is  continually  coming  in  upon 
us,  that  souls  are  going  into  the  eternal  world 
that  we  might  be  instrumental  in  leading  to  the 
Lamb  of  God  and  a  sweet  home  in  heaven  ! 
Surely  we  count  not  our  life  dear  unto  us. 
The  pleasures  of  home  grow  gloomy,  the  voice 
of  friendship  strikes  heavy,  we  hear  only  the 
solemn  mandate,  "  Go  ye  out,  and  compel  them 
to  come  in."  Haste  to  shelter  'neath  mercy's 
canopy,  'ere  the  swift-coming  storm  is  driven 
on  the  earth r  that  shall  try  men's  souls  and 
crush  the  unsanctiticd  in  heart.  Will  heaven 
direct  ! 


MIIS.     CHRISTIANA    H.    COWELL.  DD 

May  commence  a  female  j)rayer  meeting. 
Full  attendance,  and  refreshing  time.  Feel 
unh't  to  be  among  saints,  praying  for  humility. 
Next  meeting  at  my  home.  Deep,  solemn, 
satisfying  season.  • 

'2(]tk. —  Attend  the  Xe\v  Durham  Quarterly 
Meeting  at  Farmington. 

Extract  of  a  letter  dated  Wolfeboro',  April 
20,  1843:  — 

DEAR  HTSBAXD, —  I  was  truly  rejoiced  to 
receive  a  letter  from  one  in  whom  my  earthly 
hopes  of  happiness  are  centered.  The  time  since 
you  left,  seems  long,  very  long,  and  I  was  he- 
coming  impatient  to  hear  from  3*011.  as  the 
traveling  forbade  all  hope  of  mv  seeinir  vou  at 

1  -  »  O      «/ 

present. 

Our  little  A.  is  constantly  entwining  herself 
into  the  tender  feelings  of  my  heart, —  she  is  so 
pleasant  and  playfuK  I  hope  to  hold  her  in  the 
right  place  in  my  affections. 

O,  D.  I  should  like  to  be  with  3*011.  My 
heart  thrills  with  emotion  when  I  call  to  mind 
the  pleasant  hours  I  have  spent  in  3*0111-  society. 
You  can  now  realize  some  of  the  lonelii; 
have  experienced  when  left  alone.  Had  I 
known  that  3*011  were  to  sta\-  there,  I  should 
have  been  unwilling  to  have  3-011  go  without  me. 


fif)  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

I  watch  the  melting  snow  with  impatient  anx- 
iety. Not  that  I  don't  enjoy  myself  here; 
everything  has  gone  pleasantly  here,  and  my 
friends  try  to  make  me  happy.  I  never  was 
more  rejoiced,  I  think,  at  .the  appearance  of 
spring.  The  grass  already  begins  to  start 
around  the  door.  True,  it  may  be  the  last 
spring  that  will  open  upon  us.  If  so,  we  have 
a  hope  of  seeing  a  land  where  there  is  no  night. 
I  do  not  feel  so  much  engaged  as  I  want  to  be. 
I  hope  you  pray  for  me. 

When  on  the  humble  knee 

I  silently  am  bending, 
My  ardent  prayer  for  tliee 

To  heaven  is  ascending. 

Your  affectionate  C.  B.  COWELL. 

April. —  Loud  thunder  —  bright  light. 

/Sabbath. —  Heard  good  preaching  from  Elder 
D.  Blaisdell. 

Monday. —  Visited  Mrs.  .Dr.  Jones;  a  de- 
lightful visit.  Find  good-nature,  pleasing 
grace  and  a  good  degree  of  intelligence  dwell- 
ing there.  To-day  nature  looks  gray  and 
barren,  the  naked  earth  rough  and  dried  up. 
But  I  shall  not  sink  into  the  low  brood in^s,  for 

rs    " 

I    know    summer   is    nigh.       AVelcome,    thrice 
welcome  to  the  opening  spring  ! 


MRS.    CITinSTTANA    R.    POWELL.  H7 

Come  thou  soft  and  dewy  spring, 

With  nil  thy  freshness  come  ; 
Thy  laurels  and  thy  music  bring 

From  thy  tar-off  south  sea  home. 
Come  with  thy  mild  and  balmy  air, 

Thy  robes  of  ireshest  green  ; 
We  long  to  roam  in  wild  woods  where 

Thy  breath  find  step  have  been. 
We  long  to  feel  the  soft  winds  blow, 

And  the  modest  wild  flowers  bloom, 
Where  the  streams  in  plaintive  murmurs  flows, 

And  the  birds  with  sonnets-come. 


Sabbdth. —  Sermon  from  Elder  E.  Blaisdell 
in  the  forenoon  ;  husband  in  the  afternoon  from 
Solomon's  Songs,  chapters  4  and  5. 

Evening,  he  goes  out  alone,  with  feeble 
health,  through  snow  and  water,  to  meet  with 
a  Christian  band  two  miles  distant.  Oh,  that 
he  might  forever  have  given  him  the  true  and 
everlasting  gospel  to  preach  to  the  perishing 
world  !  Sermons  by  Revs.  Messrs.  Hart,  Pink- 
ham,  Cilley  and  Buzzel.  Rev.  H.  Stevens  we 
tind  very  feeble. 

20lh. —  While  interceding  with  God,  begin 
to  feel  my  troubled  heart  sink  to  rest,  and  my 
tearful  eye  turned  heavenward  with  hope  of  a 
long  happy  home  there.  Afternoon,  went  on 
a  pleasant  hill,  at  the  house  of  a  good  sister 
living  all  alone,  with  a  number  of  dear  sisters," 
to  have  our  prayer  meeting.  Pleasant,  happy 
time. 


«;,S  LIFE    AND    WHITINGS    OF 

Friday. —  With  joyous  spirits,  far  beyond 
merit,  ^o  to  Berwick.  Pleasant  conference  on 

*    O 

the  Ridge.  Been  very  low  since  we  left.  Bat 
some  awakening  and  happy  feelings.  Hope 
they  will  rise  and  shine.  Why  am  I  thus 
favored  with  the  dear  friend  of  my  bosom  to 
visit  from  place  to  place,  and  meet  with,  and 
try  to  encourage,  the  children  of  God?  We 
are  truly  happy  in  the  enjoyment  of  these 
precious  privileges. 

June  1st,  tiabbcith.  —Attend  meeting  on 
Bonny  Big. 

Monday. —  Part  with  our  very  good  Brother 
Butler  and  wife.  Spend  the  day  in  visiting. 

Tuesday,  3rd. —  Arrive  at  Rev.  Brother 
McKenney's  at  Lyman,  to  attend  the  Water- 
borough  Quarterly  Meeting.  What  strange 
heaviness  comes  over  my  mind  to-day  !  How 
much,  alas,  like  the  restless  tide  are  my  feel- 
ings !  I  am  now  solemnly  impressed  with  the 
emptiness  of  earth,  and  serious  fears  about  my 
eternal  all.  I  cannot  rest  on  anything  of 
earth.  In  the  all-redeeming  Saviour  I  try  to 
trust.  My  prayers  float  around  and  ring  b;>.ck 
about  my  head  with  no  power  to  ascend.  I 
would  fain  come  to  God,  but  Oh,  this  thick 
hedge!  Shall  we  not  see  God's  power  come 
down  here?  Is  not  this  darkness  a  harbinger 
of  dawn  ?  I  trust  it  may  be  so. 


M1JS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  69 

X 

Wednesday* — Preaching  by  Elder  Davis.  No 
move. 

Thursday  morning. — Begin  to  penetr:ite  the 
gloom  ;  feel  to  labor.  Twenty  arise  for  pray- 
ers ;  might}'  move  for  an  hour.  Sermons  by 
Elders  Davis  and  Small.  Hard  time;  a  cloud 
shuts  down  heavy  and  dark.  Close  with  a  Com- 
munion. Servants  of  God  leave.  We  are  still 
saying,  O  Lord,  hast  thon  anything  more  for  us 
to  do?  Open  the  way.  Feel  like  staying  with 
Brother  McKenney  and  wife.  Unite  in  crying 
mightily  to  God  for  power.  Spend  a  long  time 
in  earnest  pleading  with  God.  Trembling  and 
fearful,  we  go  out  to  visit  from  house  to  house, 
—  husband  and  our  good  brother  one  way,  my- 
self and  his  companion  another.  We  met  with 
sinners  with  bursting  hearts  and  weeping  eyes. 
We  tried  to  talk,  pray  and  weep  with  them. 
God  have  the  glory  for  the  happy  success  that 
crowned  the  feeble  efforts  I  At  noon  met  again 
with  our  husbands,  who  were  praising  God. 
Not  only  had  they  seen  conviction  fastening, 
but  in  a  cottage  among  the  bushes  they  heard 
the  convert's  happy  song,  and  others  still  earn- 
estly seeking  God.  Every  vale  and  hill,  yea, 
the  very  wind  around,  seems  to  be  mourning  in 
sympathy  with  the  sin-burdened  souls.  Oh, 
that  the  work  may  grow  deeper  and  deeper  in 
every  heart !  I  would  obey  the  mandate  of  my 
God. 


70  LIFE    AND   WJtITlXGS    OF 

Satin-day,  July  17M. —  Start  for  Bsirnstoad. 
Pleasant  ride  ;  dine  at  Widow  Berry's  Found 
the  daughter-in-law  deeply  anxious  about  her 
soul.  Spend  the  night  at  good  Brother  Mc- 
Xeal's,  a  wealthy  farmer. 

Sabbath  morning.  Hide  to  the  Centre,  to 
husband's  appointment.  He  spoke  from  Joel. 
Seemed  to  fee  something  in  the  way.  After- 
noon, from  Isaiah,  xxxv.  4.  Good  freedom. 
Call  on  ti  bereaved  husband  and  motherless  chil- 
dren. Felt  much  sympathy.  Spend  the  night 
at  Brother  D.  Eaton's  —  a  low,  romantic  vale, 
watered  by  a  large  stream,  winding  among  the 
hills. 

Tuesday. — With  Brother  E.  and  wife,  go  to 
an  appointment  at  G.  Edgerly's.  Heavenly 
season ;  a  sweet  visit  from  our  Master.  He 
gives  his  servants,  now  and  then,  a  foretaste  of 
rich  treasures  in  store  for  them.  Pleasant  visit 
at  T.  Chesley's,  by  the  shore  of  a  beautiful  pond. 
We  wander  with  delight  on  its  sunny  banks,  so 
far  retired  from  the  hum  of  busy  men,  so  still 
and  happy.  We  felt  that  domestic  bliss  might 
be  unmuliled  there.  Afternoon  meeting  at  L. 
French's.  Good  season. 

2M. — Visit  Brother  Eaton.  Extremely  sul- 
try. Very  kindly  entertained.  Find  him  much 
depressed  on  account  of  the  low  state  of  Zion. 
Trust  the  Lord  will  hear  his  prayers. 


runs.  cm;i>TiANA  u.  COWKLL.  71 

"24th. — Very  pleasant  ride  to  Stratford,  to  D. 
Leighton's.  Much  :iffectod  as  we  pass  field  after 
field,  to  see  them  scorching  'neath  the  sultry 

heavens.     Xo  rain  for  several  months. 

« 

The  streamlets  cen.se,  the  fountains  dry, 
The  blasting  winds  sweep  o'er  the  plain  ; 
The  heated  earth,  the  brassy  sky 
No  cooling  moisture  yields. 
Wrath  is  Waxing  in  the  heavens, 
And  vengeance  on  the  hills. 
What  fearful  sin,  yet  unforgiven, 
Our  guilty  nation  feels  ! 

"2')tk. — At  S.  Berry's;  interesting  meeting. 

'!('•> I h. — Met  at  the  school  house.  A  very 
solemn,  weeping  season.  The  spirit  of  the  un- 
seen God  was  felt.  Spent  the  night  with  Elder 
David  Garland.  Very  good  family. 

21th. — Start  for  home,  much  depressed  in 
spirit.  Our  spiritual  pilgrimage  looked  dark, 
— a  portentous  gloom,  •  increasing,  with  now 
and  then  a  respite,  for  several  weeks.  The 
Lord  our  only  stalF  when  earthly  prospects  fade. 
We  felt  that  though  in  trials,  we  were  sharers 
in  each  other's  joys  and  sorrows.  Hope  for 
deeper-toned  piety. 

Angn ft,  1th. — Arrive  late  in  the  evening  at 
Father  Coffin's,  in  Wolfeborough.  Met  there 
with  our  dear  friend,  young  preacher  Brother 
Brooks.  Was  happy  to  meet  again  my  dear 


72  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS   OP 

sister,  returned  from  Hartford  after  an  absence 
of  two  years. 

Sabbath,  8th. — Met  at  the  Mill  neighborhood. 
There  was  a  sound  of  abundance  of  rain.  Hus- 
baiut  spoke  from  Joel  iii.  14.  Multitudes,  &c. 
1st.  The  valley  of  decision  the  probationary  state 
in  this  world.  2d.  The  points  to  be  decided, 
viz.,  eternal  bliss  or  eternal  woe;  the  import- 
ance of  decision  in  all  the  pursuits  of  life.  3d. 
The  great  consequences  attending  the  decision 
we  make.  4th.  The  last  and  great  day  of  the 
Lord's  decision,  when  all  must  reap  the  fruits 
of  their  own  decision.  Good  season. 

Tuesday. — Visited  the  Borough.  Spent  the 
night  at  D.  Firbur's.  Martha,  a  young  friend 
of  mine,  shared  largely  in  our  interest  and  sym- 
pathies ;  long  strove  against  the  convictions  of 
God's  Spirit •;  now  left  in  a  very  feeble  state  of 
health,  and  but  little  power  or  disposition  to 
seek  salvation. 

Wednesday. — After  several  calls,  met  at  the 
school-house.  Sermon  from  Habakuk  iii.  20. 
1st — Negatively.  In  what  the  Lord  was  not  to 
revive  his  work,  viz.,  the  vast  work  of  creation. 
2d.  What  is  the  work  to  be  revived  ?  Regen- 
eration in  the  heart.  3d.  The  duty  of  Chris- 
tians as  co-workers,  and  the  happy  completion. 
Afternoon,  from  Numbers  x.  29.  We  are  jour- 
neying unto  the,  &c. 


Ml;>,    CliKlMlA-SA    B.    COWELL.  <O 

13/A.— Commence  a  protracted  meeting  iuthe 
meeting-house  at  the  Mills.  Sermon  by  hus- 
band. Deep  feeling. 

14M.— Crowded  house.  Sermon  from  Isaiah 
xxxv.  4-9.  Say  to  them  that  are  fearful,  &c. 
Truly  the  Lord  came  round  about  the  camp  of 
Israel  that  day.  Several  anxious. 

loth. A   very  crowded  assembly.      Mr.  C. 

spoke  from  Numbers.  Who  is  on  the  Lord's 
side?  1st.  The  meaning  of  side,  viz.,  position 
taken,  the  characters  that  are  not,  those  that  are, 
the  advantages  of  the  one  over  the  other.  The 
undoubted  triumph. 

16f/i._  Afternoon.  Powerful  conviction:  a 
good  meeting:  some  converted;  many  others 
anxious. 

17//J.— Good  meeting  at  Fernald's  Corner. 
The  air  seemed  pregnant  with  solemn  feeling. 

18M.  —Meeting  at  the  Borough.  Mourners 
came  forward,  and  backsliders  returned.  After- 
noon—Sermon. How  long  will  ye  halt  ? 

19//t.— Met  again.  Sermon  from  Say  ye  to 
the  righteous.  Vhile  dwelling  on  the  happy 
state  of  the  righteous,  the  speaker  seemed  to  be 
let  into  the  inner  court  of  heaven,  behold  the 
glories  there  in  store,  and  portray  them  before 
us  from  vision. 

'2'2d. Attend  meeting  at  the  Mills.  Instruc- 
tive sermons  from  Elder  D.  Swett. 


4 


74  LIFE   AND   WRITINGS    OF 

Monday,  23d. — Husband  leaves  me  to  visit 
L.  ;  absent  two  weeks.  Attended  meeting  in 
Berwick.  From  thence  went  to  Waterborough. 
Attended  the  Waterborough  Quarterly  Meeting. 
Thence  went  to  Ossipee,  to  attend  the  Wolfe- 
borough  Quarterly  Meeting.  Again  returned  to 
me  at  my  father's.  Happy  to  meet  him.  Found 
his  health  very  poor,  and  mind  much  exercised. 
Sabbath  he  preached  in  the  meeting-house  in 
the  Mill  neighborhood,  from  Zee.  ii.  7.  De- 
liver thyself,  O  Daughter  of  Zion.  1st.  A 
description  of  the  literal  Babylon,  and  its  appli- 
cation to  the  world,  and  the  domination  of  Satan 
its  king.  2d.  The  way  Zion  is  led  into  captiv- 
ity :  by  looking  on  sin,  by  neglecting  duty  — 
the  tongue  is  chained  from  speaking,  the  feet 
from  visiting  God's  house,  and  they  are  borne 
away  captives.  3d.  Why  they  should  leave 
Babylon  :  because  of  its  barrenness,  its  stag- 
nant waters  and  impure  air,  and  the  awful  des- 
tiny that  hangs  over  all  that  trade  with  her. 
4th.  The  way  back  to  Zion  :  by  calling  on  the 
King  of  Zion,  the  great  Deliverer  ;  by  throwing 
aside  every  darling  sin,  and  running  with  faces 
as  a  flint  Zion  ward, —  for  the  ransomed  of  the 
Lord  shall  come  to  Zion  with  shouts,  &c. 

Afternoon,  text  from  Psalm  cviii.  Go  up  to 
Zion,  go  about  her,  behold  her  towers,  mark 
her  bulwarks.  1st.  Description  of  literal  Zion, 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   B,    COWELL.  75 

its  strong  fortifications,  strength  and  beauty  of 
her  watchmen.  Ziou  spiritually  :  her  bulwarks 
are  the  good  enterprises  of  the  day,  especially 
Sabbath  Schools,  to  fortify  the  future  genera- 
tions against  false  doctrine.  God  himself  is  as 
a  wall  of  fire  round  about  her.  2d.  The  en- 
trance by  repentance  and  faith  :  leaving  all  with- 
out the  gate,  come  naked,  to  receive  a  new 
garment  from  the  King  of  Righteousness,  to 
mingle  in  that  happy  society  where  order  reigns, 
in  their  holy  devotion,  and  their  final  ascension 
to  the  New  Jerusalem,  where  no  harps  are  un- 
strung, no  sorrows  mingle  in  their  lays. 

Tuesday,  8th. — Leave  again  the  parental  roof 
with  my  companion,  in  company  with  my  father 
and  sister  S.  Visit  five  families  of  relatives  in 
Alton,  three  in  Gilmanton,  eight  in  Sanbornton. 
Visit  grandfather  Philbrick,  who  clings  to  early 
habits,  using  his  wooden  plate  at  meals.  On 
inquiry  to  know  why,  he  replied,  in  so  doing, 
he  would  not  dull  his  knife. 

llfk. — Meeting  at  Union  Bridge.  Husband 
preaches  from  Nehemiah.  And  they  all  had  a 
mind  to  work. 

Saturday. — After  an  affectionate  leave  jour- 
ney through  Gilmanton.  Very  happy.  Call 
and  spend  a  few  hours  with  a  guide  and  father 
to  the  youth,  Elder  Peter  Clark ;  much  profit- 
aide  instruction.  Spend  the  night  at  J.  T. 
C'otlin's  :  h:ippy  visit. 


7G  LIFE   AND   WHITINGS   OF 

Sabbath,  13M.—  Attend  meeting  at  the  Iron 
\Vorks.  Church  low  and  divided,  but  the  gos- 
pel standard  was  raised  and  all  invited  to  come 
under  its  banner  and  fight  for  Prince  Immanuel ; 
good  meeting.  Husband  overcpme  with  fa- 
tigue, weighed  down  in  spirits. 

loth. —Make  several  calls  on  our  way  to 
Farmington  to  attend  a  protracted  meeting, 
Called  on  Brother  H.  Stevens  ;  pleasant  inter- 
view with  several  preaching  brethren. 

/Saturday,  19th. — Husband  goes  to  an  ap- 
pointment in  Lyman. 

21*'£. — Part  with  my  unfortunate  sister  going 
to  Hartford  to  study  two  years  more. 

26th. — Heard  Elder  E.  Place,  who  came 
weeping  and  sowed  precious  seed  ;  very  good 
time.  Prayer  meeting  in  the  evening  ;  unusual 
solemnity  and  weeping.  We  feel  that  the  Lord 
is  near  this  place  waiting  to  work.  " 

21th. — Good  meeting  at  S.  Hodsdou's  ;  still 
solemn. 

October,  loth. — Arrived  last  night,  rather 
chilled,  at  our  Uncle  dough's,  in  Alton  ;  very 
kindly  received  ;  the  state  of  religion  with  them 
very  low.  To-day  ride  in  the  rain  to  our  be- 
loved Brother  Garland's  ;  feel  a  quiet  resting  of 
the  mind,  though  very  unworthy  of  the  kind- 
nesses which  we  receive.  We  begin  to  feel 
that  there  is  a  work  to  be  done  here,  but  unfit 


MIIS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  77 

to  labor  and  know  not  what  to  do.  I  have  lis- 
tened to  the  doubts  and  darkness  of  others  and 
felt  that  I  ought  not  to  doubt  or  despond  ;  but 
Oh,  I  am  so  destitute  of  the  true  genuine  re- 
ligion and  reliance  on  God,  I  feel  that  I  cannot 
possibly  be  of  any  use  here.  Yet  my  heart's 
desire  and  prayer  is  to  see  the  work  of  the 
Lord,  and  hear  the  sound  of  his  goings  once 
more  in  this  life.  My  companion  very  low, 
much  distressed,  restless  night,  future  dark- 
ened. 

8abbath.—Riuny.  Meet  at  the  Centre  with 
father  and  mother  Coffin.  Feel  weighed  down 
by  my  companion's  being  unusually  so,  —  like 
Jeremiah,  who  cried  out,  Oh,  that  my  head 
were1  waters.  Evening  meeting  at  Beauty  Hill ; 
husband  preaches. 

IS*/*. Visited  some  unconverted;  found  the 

spirit  of  the  Lord  striving  with  them.  We  go 
over  the  hills  dejected  and  feeling  as  though 
the  world  was  dressed  in  mourning.  In  the 
evening  a  large  number  collected  at  Brother 
E's  ;  the  spirit  of  the  Lord  seemed  to  be  with 
us  ;  some  omens  of  a  revival. 

l-2th.—  Visit  Mr.  Hatch,  formerly  a  preacher 
of  the  gospel,  and  who  is  again  in  some  meas- 
ure, called  unto  the  walls.  In  the  afternoon 
ride  to  attend  a  meeting  at  I.  Willey's  :  very 
kindly  received,  though  entire  strangers;  a 


78  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

pleasant  meeting.  Husband  still  suffering, 
•with  now  and  then  a  happy  respite  from  pain  of 
heart  and  body. 

20^/i. — The  fine  morning  brings  forth  a  stormy 
day.  Find  very  kind  friends,  for  which  we  feel 
gratitude.  The  lady  of  the  house  suffering 
under  protracted  illness,  yet  enjoying,  we  trust, 
the  presence  of  God.  We  have  peculiar  un- 
foreseen conflicts  of  mind,  notwithstanding  the 
flattering  prospects  outwardly.  Yet  we  trust 
in  that  arm  who  will  deliver  us  out  of  them  all. 
In  the  afternoon  ride  to  S.  Tilton's,  on  Tilton 
hill,  in  Pittsfield ;  found  very  warm-hearted 
friends,  a  good  home,  which  raised  our  spirits 
for  awhile. 

2±th.—  Visited  Brother  P.  True.  Spent  the 
day  in  great  depression  of  spirits,  walking  over 
the  hill,  although  the  prospect  was  sublime  and 
beautiful  in  the  extreme,  there  was  a  shade 
hung  over  it  all  that  nothing  of  earth  could  re- 
move. I  felt  that  I  was  left  to  total  darkness 
and  despair  of  ever  becoming  acceptable  in  the 
sight  of  Heaven.  Yet  there  alone  would  I  hope 
for  any  relief,  and  there  I  threw  my  sinking 
soul.  Husband's  health  very  poor.  In  at- 
tempting to  pray  felt  that  my  sins  were  like 
mountains.  I  cried  and  wept  before  the  Lord. 
Felt  some  relief;  I  am  still  determined  to  beat 
against  the  billows  and  winds  ;  cannot  see  that 


}IK>.    CHRISTIANA    15.    OOWKLL.  79 

I  am  a  Christian.  Took  a  very  affectionate 
leave  of  our  friends,  who  had  so  kindly  received 
us.  Rode  to  Brother  Eaton's. 

28th. — Attended  meeting  on  Beauty  hill. 
Met  with  Elder  Bobbins  and  wife ;  had  a  very 
pleasant  interview  with  them.  Preaching  by 
husband  and  Elder  Robbins.  Brother  Bobbins 
preached  from  Hosea.  What  will  you  do,  in 
the  solemn  day?  Touching  and  eloquent  ap- 
peals. In  the  evening  a  very  pleasant  meeting. 
Mr.  C.  spoke  from  Psalms,  Thy  word  is  set- 
tled in  Heaven. 

25th. — Pleasant  morning ;  spent  the  day  in 
visiting,  reading  and  meditation. 

29th. — Our  long  anticipated  meeting  com- 
menced at  the  Centre  ;  prospect  rather  dark  at 
first,  but  few  came  in.  We  were  disappointed 
in  the  help  of  preaching  brethren  —  no  one 
came,  but  there  wa-s  wrestling  in  prayer.  Af- 
ternoon, glad  to  find  Elder  S.  Coffin  had 
arrived.  Mr.  C.  spoke  from  "Fear  not  him 
who  can  kill,  &c.  ;  "  entreaty  to  arise  and  go 
forth  to  battle,  which  appeared  was  not  in  vain. 
The  divine  spirit  seemed  to  have  a  free  move  ; 
some  that  had  been  very  low  came  out  of  their 
hiding  places.  In  the  evening  Father  Coffin 
preached. 

tiufHi'dtiy,  '3()th. — Elder  E.  -Place  came; 
preached  in  the  forenoon ;  in  the  afternoon 


80  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

father  Coffin  was  rather  solemn.  Evening1  — 
there  seemed  to  be  unusual  solemnity  during 
the  first  of  the  evening,  jet  the  ever-present 
spirit  of  Evil  held  a  contest ;  not  much  victory 
gained ;  increasing  weight. 

Sabbath,  Zlst. — In  the  forenoon  Elder  Bob- 
bins spoke  to  a  large  assembly  of  people  from 
Deuteronomy  —  "My  doctrine  shall  drop  as  the 
rain,  &c."  In  the  afternoon  Mr.  C.  came  tremb- 
ling and  burdened  before  the  people,  and  spoke 
with  unusual  freedom  from  Revelation,  chapter 
in.  verse  18  —  "I  counsel  thee  to  buy  of  me 
gold,  tried  in  the  fire,  that  thou  mayest  be  rich, 
&c."  He  showed  the  poverty  and  nakedness 
of  sinners,  also  of  professors  without  the  vital 
religion,  exemplified  by  gold,  as  being  the  most 
durable,  precious  and  bright ;  the  various  things 
we  grasp  to  supply  the  place  of  gold  when  want- 
ing, viz :  false  doctrines,  worldly  fame  and 
gain,  prejudice  in  the  church,  &e.  Truly  the 
Lord  was  present  to  help,  and  we  hope  good 
was  done  that  day. 

Monday,  November,  2nd. — Mr.  C.  was  very 
much  exhausted  with  labor  of  the  day  previous. 

3rd. — Very  good  meeting  at  the  Centre. 
Elder  Bobbins  preached  twice  with  eloquence 
and  feeling ;  some  came  forward  for  prayers  ; 
one  gave  strong  evidence  of  conversion,  and 
several  revived. 


All.'S.    CIMMSTIANA    il.    COWKLL.  81 

4th. — Conference  meeting  at  the  Locke 
neighborhood ;  very  good  time.  Meeting  in 
the  evening. 

5th. — Meeting  at  the  Centre.  Sermon  by 
Eider  D.  P.  Cilley ;  good  season.  Monthly 
meeting  at  Dennett's ;  evening  at  the  Nutter 
school-house. 


I  am  alone  to-night, 
To  hear  the  drear  winds  blow  ; 
My  thoughts  are  on  the  past, 
When  wo  no  sorrow  knew  ; 
I  think  of  my  poor  heart, 
So  lost  in  sin  and  guilt, 
And  one  to  plead  my  cause 
Whose  blood  for  me  was  spilt. 
He  alone  can  save 
Onr  spirits  from  distress, 
And  bear  ns  o'er  life's  wave 
To  lands  of  holiness. 


/Saturday  evening. — The  meeting  was  veiy. 
solemn  ;  several  came  forward.  Mr.  C.  spoke 
from  Psalms  —  "After  so  long  a  time  as  to- 
day, &c.» 

Sabbath,  Qth. — Met  again  at  the  Centre. 
Forenoon  sermon  by  Elder  Garland.  After- 
noon by  Mr.  C.,  from  Matt,  chapter  vii.  verses 
2(i  and  27 —  "Every  one  that  heareth  these 
sayings  and  doeth  them  not,  &c.,"  more  espe- 
cially, "and  it  fell  and  great  was  the  fall  of  it." 
The  place  was  awful  on  account  of  the  presence 

4* 


82  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

of  God.  1st,  the  sayings  of  Christ  not  hard  to 
do ;  2d,  the  false  foundations  on  which  those 
build  who  do  not  choose  Christ ;  finally,  the 
great  and  final  fall  of  all.  earthly  fabrics.  Had 
good  liberty.  Good  meeting  in  the  evening ; 
two  young  men  came  forward;  still  there  is 
a  slow  and  heavy  move  of  the  work ;  so  many 
dormant  professors  that  the  car  was  burdened 
and  would  not  overtake  the  sinner. 

Monday  evening. — Meeting  at  L.  French's  ; 
snow  storm,  weather  inclement. 

Tuesday,  8th. — Visited  Mr.  Nutter's  ;  found 
a  very  pleasant  family ;  meeting  at  the  school 
house  in  the  evening.  Text,  If  the  righteous 
scarcely  are  saved,  &c.  Several  arose  for 
prayers,  two  of  whom  were  the  daughters  of 
Brother  Nutter,  on  whom  we  called.  After  re- 
turning to  his  house  we  all  bowed  down  to- 
gether to  pray ;  the  unconverted  daughters 
prayed,  after  Avhich  they  felt  calm.  The  ensu- 
ing morning  found  them  happy  in  the  love  of 
Christ.  Mr.  C.  and  Brother  Nutter  spent  the 
forenoon  in  visiting.  During  their  absence  I 
endeavored  to'  encourage  and  pray  with  the 
young  ladies,  and  had  the  happiness  of  hearing 
them  join  in  prayer.  Happy  season,  I  trust 
long  to  be  remembered.  Spent  the  remainder 
of  the  week  with  Brother  Eaton's  and  Brother 
French's  families. 


CHRISTIANA    B.    COW  ELL.  83 


Sabbath,  13f./t.  —  Attended  meeting  at  Beauty 
Hill.  Mr.  C.  spoke  from  Proverbs  —  Because 
I  have  called  and  ye  have  refused,  &c.  Very 
weeping  season.  Meeting  in  the  evening,  very 
precious  season,  very  happy  meeting.  Previous 
to  the  meeting  felt  a  very  saddening  conviction 
of  my  lack  of  holiness  and  my  slothfulness  in 
the  cause.  Retired  to  thfe  grove  ;  found  access 
to  the  Saviour  ;  had  a  very  sweet  union  with 
Him  for  several  hours.  I  felt  that  my  soul 
would  fain  fly  to  His  embrace  ;  more  real  heav- 
enly communion  than  I  had  enjoyed  for  years. 
He  blessed  the  meeting  with  His  presence. 

14//A.  —  Took  an  affectionate  leave  of  the 
kind  family,  parted  with  dear  friends  in  tears  ; 
felt  to  weep  that  no  more  had  been  done. 
Started  for  home  after  an  absence  of  four  weeks. 
Spend  the  night  at  W.  Berry's.  Another 
family  residing  in  the  same  house,  viz.,  Dr. 
G.,  the  soothing  and  animating  influence  of 
whose  amiable  companion,  I  gratefully  felt.  In 
the  person  of  W.  Berry  I  find  true  firmness 
and  nobleness  of  principle,  affable  and  affec- 
tionate feelings.  In  his  companion,  true 
womanly  tenderness  and  benevolence  ;  and  a 
good  daughter. 

Wednesday.'  —  Arrive  at  home,  find  our 
friends  well.  Happy  to  come  home  and  rest 
the  anxious  mind  and  wearv  body. 


84  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

Sabbath. —  Very  solemn  —  weepi ng.  Meet- 
ing at  Lebanon. 

26th. —  My  mind  for  several  days  has  been 
turned  from  every  earthly  enjoyment.  But 
to-day  find  there  are  influences  on  earth  that 
can  hold  a  charm  on  the  mind.  Husband  has 
been  to  the  funeral  of  old  Squire  Wentworth ; 
during  his  absence  I 'bury  myself  in  prepara- 
tion for  the  usual  festivities  of  Thanksgiving- 
day.  I  am  permitted  to  attend  at  the  board, 
loaded  with  the  rich  gifts  of  heaven,  and  see 
it  surrounded  with  the  happy  connections  of 
my  dear  companion  ;  at  the  head  of  the  table 
sit  his  honored  parents  who  have  seen  sevent}r- 
tive  Thanksgiving  days,  and  still  live  to  wel- 
come home  the  circle,  long  scattered  abroad. 
They  toiled  through  many  a  summer's  heat, 
and  winter's  cold,  to  bring  them  into  respecta- 
ble and  prosperous  circles  of  life.  Happy 
indeed  to  see  and  enjoy  them  again,  though 
thoughts  of  one  sleeping  little  from  us  on  the 
hill,  of  one  swallowed  up  in  the  waves  of  the 
sea,  of  another  twenty-one  years  absent  from 
home,  of  whom  they  had  no  intelligence,  em- 
bitter their  cup  of  joy.  I  read  much  in  the  tear 
that  stole  from  our  mother's  eye  as  she  looked 
upon  her  surviving  children.  My  imagination 
heard  her  saying,  once  I  used  to  see  you  all 
around  me,  once  I  could  go  and  see  you  all 


MKS.    OTIKISTI ANA    B.    COWELL.  *~> 

safe  on  your  pillows,  and  ask  God's  blessing 
upon  you.  But  some  that  used  to  cheer  us, 
and  come  around  the  table,  have  gone  through 
suffering,  sorrows  and  death.  I  yet  live  to 
think  of  them.  One,  I  know  not  whether  he 
lives  or  not.  O  time,  what  a  change  thon  hast 
wrought !  Here  we  are,  perhaps  never  to  come 
together  again  all  of  us.  Such  a  day  is  pleas- 
ant, and  calculated  to  awaken  numberless  asso- 
ciations, bitter  or  sweet.  To  me  it  brings  the 
sunset  hour,  when  my  mother,  at  my  father's 
table,  said  she  should  never  spend  another 
Thanksgiving  with  us  on  earth,  and  so  it  was. 
The  next  autumn  winds  swept  over  her  grave. 
But  in  the  bosom  of  a  companion  I  can  bury 
my  grief,  and  feel  that  I  am  still  blest  of 
heaven. 

27th. —  I  have  spent  this  day  as  I  never  spent 
a  day  before  —  my  mind  calm  as  summer  sunset. 
The  sweetest  genius  of  domestic  bliss  has  hung 
around  me  all  day.  I  feel  as  though  I  was  the 
happiest  of  the  happy.  To  heaven  I  lift  my 
grateful  eye  and  bless  the  day  that  gave  me 
birth. 

28th. —  Solemn  meeting.  Preaching  by  Mr. 
C ;  good  liberty.  Good  meeting  in  the  even- 
ing. 

29M. —  Hoary  winter  comes  again,  with  war 
and  driving  snow,  and  we  are  glad  to  nestle  in 
around  our  tire  while  it  ra fires  without. 


86  LIFE    AXD    WRITINGS    OF 

And  must  the  summer  pass 

So  quick,  so  fast  away, 
Ami  autumn,  with  its  yellow  dress, 

Come  to  sing  its  farewell  lay  ? 
It  was  but  a  few  days  since  we  sang 

A  welcome  to  the  spring  ; 
Now  Spring,  Summer,  Autumn  'gone, 

And  Winter  now  is  ushering  in. 
Oh,  rapid  time,  how  quick  thy  flight ! 

And  thou  art  rolling  us  along, 
To  hurl  us  into  endless  night, 

Or  bear  us  to  the  land  of  song. 

Dec.  1st. —  My  husband  is  wading  through 
very  dark  trials  of  mind  —  nights  of  pain  and 
days  of  sorrow.  At  night  I  wake  only  to  hear 
him  pray,  O  Lord,  what  shall  I  do?  Again 
the  demons  of  infidelity  and  false  doctrine  roll 
in  and  bear  his  soul  away.  My  ardent  prayer 
that  he  may,  by  the  strength  of  that  God  that 
will  never  forsake  those  that  trust  in  Him,  yet 
come  out  like  gold  tried  in  the  fire,  more  fit 
than  ever  before  to  venture  out  on  the  sacred 
heraldry  of  the  gospel.  Fit  me,  I  cry,  O  Lord, 
to  stand  by  him,  a  companion  indeed,  that  may 
share  and  mitigate  the  ills  of  life. 

"  No  matter  what  we  suffer,  if  we  but  reach  the  shore." 

If  by  trials  and  darkness  we  are  more  fitted 
to  do  good  in  the  glorious  cause  of  Christ, 
welcome  every  pain.  If  from  God  it  is  rich 
blessings. 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  87 

2nd. —  Attend  our  female  prayer  meeting; 
felt  much  labor  and  distress  of  soul ;  wept 
profusely. 

3rd. —  Mr.  C.  came  into  the  house  praising 
God  ;  seemed  to  have  dropped  every  burden, 
and  his  free  soul  soared  away  to  God ;  he 
enjoyed  for  hours  sweet  intercourse  with 
Heaven  ;  he  could  say  with  the  poet  — 

"  He  takes  my  soul  ere  I'm  aware 
And  shows  me  where  his  dwellings  are." 

We  feel  that  the  Lord  has  not  forsaken  us, 
though  the  path  of  duty  is  yet  dark. 

4th.—  Cold  and  chilly  Sabbath. 

6th. —  Attended  a  funeral  of  the  sou  of  F. 
Dixon.  Sweet  the  hope  that  bears  the  mourner 
up.  Oh,  the  deep  mysterious  love  and  wisdom 
of  God  !  'Tis  but  a  glance  I  sometimes  have, 
and  my  soul  is  overawed.  How  blind  have  I 
been  to  the  blessings  designed  by  heaven  in 
the  marriage  institution,  when  kindred  minds 
unite  in  holy  union,  delighting  in  each  other's 
joy,  and  feeling  every  pain.  Oh  matchless, 
wondrous  love,  my  pen  cannot  describe. 

1th. —  Husband  has  gone  to  Great  Falls  to 
settle  his  business  affairs,  where  for  many  years 
he  toiled  with  deeply  anxious  mind,  to  prepare 
a  home  for  future  happiness.  For  awhile  he 
prospered  well.  The  winds  wafted  wealth 


88  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

and  honor  around  him,  and  hard  his  ambitions 
mind  clung  to  his  promising  business  ;  but  the 
voice  of  the  Lord  was  calling  him  away.  A 
little  longer,  he  said,  until  he  felt  that  God's 
displeasure  would  be  kindled  against  him. 
Hard  as  it  was  to  his  acquisitive  ambition  he 
gave  up  all  to  go  and  preach  to  a  dying  world 
the  everlasting  gospel.  May  the  Lord  go  before 
him  is  my  prayer,  keep  his  feet  from  falling, 
and  be  his  shield  in  battle. 

$th. —  This  afternoon  the  dear  band  of  sisters 
have  come  in  to  sit  and  pray  and  commune 
with  each  other  and  with  God.  Heavenly 
season.  We  felt  that  the  Lord  would  come 
and  answer  the  prayers  that  have  been  going 
up  during  the  last  summer.  It  is  safe  to  trust 
in  God.  I  sit  alone  in  the  parlor  ruminating 
on  past  scenes,  on  the  rich  blessing  I  have,  and 
stijl  enjoy. 

Arc  not  thy  mercies  large  and  free, 
May  not  a  sinner  trust  in  thee  ? 

Thoughts  of  my  husband  come  over  me 
continually ;  sweet  and  yet  a  deep  ,emotion  of 
happiness  unearthly,  mingled  with  a  solemn 
sadness,  when  I  think  that  I  must  give  him  up 
in  my  heart  all  to  the  Lord,  to  go  from  his 
home  and  leave  his  fireside  lonely,  to  labor  in 
the  great  field  all  white  before  him  ;  we  know 


Mi:s.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  89 

not  where  his  guiding  finder  next  may  point, — 
all  I  ask  is  to  be  so  near  the  Lord  that  we  may 
know  his  will. 

O,  Lord  we  wait  thy  solemn  call, 

Though  poor,  impure  and  frail, 
But  for  thy  sake  we  give  up  all 

And  to  thy  breath  we  hoist  thy  sail : 
Help  us  the  Heavenward  course  to  kec-p 
While  tossing  o'er  life's  boisterous  deep. 

Dec.  31st. —  It  is  the  last  night  of  the  year  ; 
how  rapidly  has  time  rolled  away  ;  one  year 
ago  this  evening  I  was  in  the  prayer  meeting  in 
my  father's  neighborhood  in  all  the  thoughtless 
ignorance  of  girlhood.  Well  do  I  remember 
that  last  prayer  meeting.  To-night  in  my 
chamber  I  can  enjoy  the  society  of  one  of  the 
best  of  men,  and  look  back  on  the  great  changes, 
j<>y>  and  sorrows,  which  the  last  year  has  brought 
us.  Some  scenes  look  sad  :  but  I  mark  in  all 
my  path,  ignorance  of  the  world,  and  inexpe- 
rience in  my  situation.  I  fear  I  have  been  in 
the  way  of  my  husband  that  he  has  seen  no 
more  reformation.  Oh,  shall  I  spend  another 
year  so  slothfully  as  I  have  this.  I  have  often 
tried  to  know  and  till  my  place  but  many  times 
I  see  the  pride  of  my  heart  has  led  me  astray, 
and  I  have  come  short.  Oh,  for  a  forgiveness 
of  every  past  folly,  and  grace  to  begin  the  new 
year  with  more  adroitness  in  duty. 


«){)  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

1842,  Jan.  5th.  --Very  pleasant,  though 
mingled  reflections  to-day,  as  it  is  the  anniver- 
sary of  our  marriage.  Swift  twelve  short 
months  have  rolled  away,  and  presented  me 
with  much  means  for  doing  good,  but  how  little 
have  I  done. 

Jan.  9th. —  Lovely  Sabbath.  Mr.  C.  has  an 
appointment  at  J.  Fernald's,  but  unable  to 
attend  —  very  sick  —  not  able  to  sit  up.  Shall 
spend  the  months  of  January  and  February  at 
home  on  account  of  bad  traveling.  Spend  some 
time  in  study  and  review  of  Latin.  Our  minds 
at  times  are  weighed  down  with  sorrow,  believ- 
ing still  in  Jehovah  and  that  he  has  a  work  for 
us  in  this  place. 

Feb.  6th. —  A  very  powerful  meeting  at  J. 
Corsou's. 

I3th. —  at  D.  Goodwin's  Mr.  C.  preached  on 
faith  ;  found  there  was  strong  faith  with  some 
praying  Hannahs  ;  the  Lord  is  coming  ;  some 
heavenly  movings  in  my  own  heart,  but  so  much 
unlikeness  to  God  I  can  hardly  hope  to  be  used 
as  an  instrument  of  good.  Oh,  that  this  open- 
ing spring  might  witness  the  opening  of  the 
prison  doors  of  my  mind  and  all  God's  pro- 
fessed children ;  for  truly  the  burdens  are 
grievous  to  be  borne,  which  coldness,  death  and 
sin  has  thrown  upon  us. 

18th. —  Good  sermon  by  Elder  D.  Blaisdell ; 


MIIS.    CHRISTIANA    H.    COWELL.  91 

it  seemed  to  be  sent  of  God  to  the  people.     I 
feel  weighed  down  under  sin. 

If  he  takes  my  sins  away, 
I  shall  surely  love  him. 

In  the  evening  Mr.  C.  has  a  meeting  at  J. 
Corson's.  I  remained  at  home.  After  my 
companion  was  gone,  I  Avrapped  about  me  my 
cloak  and  wandered  forth  in  the  dusky,  bare 
fields  to  meditate  on  myself  and  God.  Here 
am  1,  a  worm  on  this  little  earth  which  is  soon 
to  be  burned.  All  these  hills  and  plains  that 
now  calmly  spread  beneath  a  cold,  cloudy  sky, 
arc  to  melt  and  pass  away; — yonder  heavens 
will  pass  away,  and  all  is  to  change  when  it 
shall  please  the  Almighty,  according  to  his 
word  ;  a  change  of  which  man  can  have  no 
conception.  A  few  days  more  arc  we  to  act  as 
probationers  to  eternity  with  all  of  its  awful 
realities.  My  heart  sinks  with  fear,  a  moment, 
as  I  think  of  the  strict  account  I  must  surely 
give,  and  the  sinful,  proud  and  blind  heart  I 
have  had  in  the  sight  of  Heaven;  but  amid  all 
my  doubts  and  gloom  there  is  a  secret  striving 
in  my  heart  I  cannot  describe,  a  something  that 
clings  around  the  throne  of  God.  Is  it  not 
faith?  I  can  hear  a  secret  whisper  "look  and 
live  ;  come  unto  me  all  ye  who  are  weary  and 
heavy  laden  and  I  will  give  you  rest."  I  feel 


92  LIFE    AND    WHITINGS    OF 

that  I  would  give  up  all  my  earthly  hopes  and 
spend  my  days  in  want  and  toil,  if  I  can  have 
the  clear  evidence  that  my  name  is  written  in 
the  Lamb's  book  of  life.  Come  Lord  Jesus 
come  quickly,  my  soul  waiteth  for  thee. 

March  18th. —  Went  to  our  female  prayer 
meeting,  still  sighing  and  struggling  at  heart ; 
there  I  sat  and  felt  that  I  could  weep  my  life 
away  if  it  could  atone  and  I  could  live  in 
Heaven.  I  looked  on  my  companion  as  he 
talked  of  the  prospect  beyond  the  stormy  banks 
of  Jordan.  O  dear  servant  of  God,  I  thought, 
there  is  a  land  of  rest  from  all  your  weary  toils  ; 
but  I  have  been  slothful  and  worse  than  idle ; 
I  fear  I  shall  never  meet  you  there.  I  ventured 
out  on  the  mercies  of  God  and  He  came  to  my 
relief.  I  can  say  to  the  honor  of  God  I  tasted 
for  a  while  the  joys  of  the  upper  world,  my 
soul  dropped  her  burden  and  rose  almost  to 
heaven,  where  I  hope  ere  long  to  dwell;  but 
oh,  so  unworthy  am  I. 

/Sabbath  eve. —  Powerful  meeting  at  J.  Cor- 
son's  ;  there  is  a  sound  of  an  abundance  of  rain 
again  heard  as  in  the  female  prayer  meeting. 
Zion  groaned.  Sermon  from  Matthew,  chapter 
iii.  verse  3.  The  voice  of  one  crying  in  the 
wilderness. 

2'2nd. —  Started  on  foot  and  wandered  in  a 
storm  over  hills  and  vales  until  we  came  to  a 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   15.    COWELL,  93 

lovely  retired  dwelling  of  J.  Gerrish's,  to  an 
appointment,  Here  husband)  over  seven  years 
ago,  first  felt  the  word  roll  upon  his  son!, 
leave  all  and  go  forth  into  the  world  to  preach 
my  word.  Here  he  spent  two  winters  hoarding 
in  the  family  while  teaching  their  school,  Such 
changes  by  death  and  sad  recollections  came 
into  his  mind  that  he  was  overwhelmed.  A 
brother  Jones  with  whom  he  had  often  rejoiced 
and  wept  had  gone  home,  whom  he  used  to  see 
there.  Years  had  rolled  away,  yet  through 
disappointments,  sorrows,  and  some  joys,  he 
had  been  brought  to  meet  the  kind  friends 
again.  My  feelings,  as  well  as  his,  cannot  be 
described. 

23i-d — Met  with  the  second  female  prayer 
meeting,  one  that  had  branched  out  from  the 
tirst  at  S.  Dixon's.  A  heavenly  season  indeed. 
We  felt  for  awhile  completely  unshackled  from 
the  world  and  ready  for  the  work  of  God.  I 
drank  again  from  the  pure  fountain  and  it  was 
sweeter  than  the  honey  or  the  honeycomb.  In 
the  evening  met  with  Parson  Loring  at  the 
Gerrish  school  house.  Mr.  C.  believed  there 
was  a  work  for  him  in  this  place,  and  would 
have  tarried  over  the  Sabbath  but  had  an  ap- 
pointment at  Mr.  Durrell's  in  another  part  of 
the  town. 

. —  Cold,  snowy  morning.      Rode  to  the 


94  LIFE   AND   WRITINGS   OF 

appointment,  although  the  cloud  seemed  hang- 
in^  over  the  Gerrish  school  house.  Forenoon 

O 

sermon,  "Consider  what  great  things  he  has 
done  for  you."  Afternoon,  from  Hebrews, 
chapter  i.  Dined  at  Brother  J.  Fernald's,  felt 
burdened  and  bound.  Very  solemn  meeting  in 
the  evening.  Thought  that  the  cloud  of  mercy 
would  soon  come  here.  Spent  the  night  with 
this  family.  Sister  Fernald  prayed,  which 
brought  much  relief. 

Monday. —  Came  home,  but  in  great  trial. 

Feb.  ±th. —  Female  meeting  at  Dr.  Jones'. 
The  number,  which  had  been  reduced  to  a  very 
few,  now  filled  the  room.  In  the  evening  at 
J.  Corson's.  Sermon  by  husband  from  Jonah 
ii.  8-9.  I  will  sacrifice  unto  the  Lord,  &c. 
At  this  meeting  a  young  man  came  after  hus- 
band to  meet  with  some  Congregational  breth- 
ren at  the  Gerrish  school  house,  for  a  protracted 
meeting.  I  went  to  the  female  meeting,  from 
thence  through  the  bad  walking  to  the  school 
house.  Found  the  Lord  was  there  of  a  truth. 
Saints  were  awakened,  and  sinners  were 
weighed  down  under  a  sense  of  sin. 

$th. —  Met  again,  the  weather  beaming  fail- 
after  a  storm.  Conviction  still  deepening  and 
several  arose  for  prayers  ;  most  of  the  preach- 
ing by  a  young  Brother  Moody,  a  student,  who 
seemed  deeply  engaged.  Spent  the  night  at 


MRS.    C1IKISTIAXA    15.    fOWELL.  95 

I.  Hodsdon's;  a  very  pleasant  family.     During 
the     night    some    snow    had    fid  fen    which    we 
walked  through  three  quarter*  of  a  mile  to  meet 
again.     To-day  husband  was  alone  in  the  desk  ; 
but  the  Lord  was  with  him.     He  seemed  to  be 
entirely  borne  on   the   arm   of  the  Almighty. 
Itwasadayof  woe-ping  and  rejoicing;  before 
the  close,  about  twelve,  aged  and  youth,  came 
forward  and  bowed  before  the  Lo*rd,—  it  was 
the  work  of  the  Lord   truly.     The  solemnity 
and  cloud  of  mercy  rested  heavily  down  this 
day,  which  will  not  be  forgotten.     Text  in  the 
forenoon,  We  are  journeying,  come  go  with  us, 
&c.     In  the  evening  traveled  in  the  storm  to 
an    appointment   at   J.    Corson's.      The    work 
moved    unobstructed    and    several    backsliders 
came  forward;  others  feared  and  trembled,  for 
their    foundation    shook.       Monday    afternoon 
attended  the  conference  at   Deacon  Burrows, 
and  had  a  very  solemn  time  ;    sermon   by  Mr.' 
Moody,-  "The  hail  shall  sweep,"  &c. 

March,  Wtk.—  Mr.  C.  went  to  an  appoint- 
inent  at  Deacon  Burrows' ;  very  powerful  time. 
Backsliders  came  forward. 

13t/i.—  Mr.  C.  expected  to  attend  at  the 
meeting  house  with  Mr.  Loring;  but  in  the 
morning  felt  duty  to  go  to  the  meeting  appoint- 
ed by  the  brethren,  at  Deacon  B's.  When  he 
arrived  he  found  of  a  truth  it  was  the  Lord  ; 


96  L1FM   AKJ)   WHITINGS   OF 

for  a  refreshing  shower  was  poured  down. 
Two  offered  themselves  for  baptism,  one  of 
whom  had  been  sprinkled  in  infancy,  and  be- 
longed to  a  church.  She  had  long  kept  back 
from  bearing  the  cross,  and  was  well  nigh  sink- 
ing in  her  mind  :  but  to-day  victory  came. 

/Sabbath,  2Qt/t. —  Meeting  at  the  Gcrrish 
school  house  in  the  forenoon.  Job,  chapter  xii. 
verses  7  and  8.  Of  the  beasts  learn  humility  to 
kneel  and  obedience  to  the  yoke,  sheltering  from 
the  storm.  Of  the  fowls  learn  praise  to  God  ;  of 
the  dove  learn  to  fly  to  the  sun,  when  tempta- 
tions assail,  and  learn  peace  and  meekness  ;;  of 
the  earth,  faithfulness  ;  of  the  streams,  the  in- 
crease of  the  Christian  ;  of  the  rocks,  firmness  ; 
of  the  trees,  aspiring  to  God  ;  of  the  fish,  to  go 
together  and  to  go  against  the  current  and  to 
keep  iu  the  element  of  the  spirit  or  to  fear 
death.  In  the  afternoon,  Go  to  the  ant,  thou 
sluggard,  &c.  The  sloth  of  immortal  souls  who 
sleep  in  seed  time,  and  will  have  to  wail  in  har- 
vest and  find  no  relief.  O  Lord  save  or  I 
perish,  for  the  famine  is  upon  me.  What  shall 
I  do  to  inherit  eternal  life,  for  I  am  vile  and 
weak?  Shall  I,  who  have  done  no  good  thing 
ever  reach  the  laud  of  the  blessed  ?  is  not  my 
case  hopeless?  Lord,  thou  art  sufficient,  come 
now  to  my  relief.  Such  the  feelings  of  my 
la-art.  In  the  evening,  solemn  meeting. 


fS,    ClllilSTlANA    13.    COWELL.  97 


t,  —  Good  sermon  by  1).  Sweet  at  I 
1  .1opp's.  Pleasant  visit  nt  F.  Dixon's.  Believe 
the  prison  doors  are  opening  to  my  companion, 
who  has  been  pressed  with  a  long  and  heavy 
bondage. 

25M.  —  Good  sermon  at  J,  Blaisdell's,  —  two 
spoke*  for  the  lirst  time.  The  Lord  is  with  his 
own, 

'2.1th.  —  Alter  a  storm  the  sun  rose  fair  oil  our 
anxious,  trembling  souls,  while  at  Brother 
Uriah  Blaisdell's.  A  large  congregation  as- 
sembled, Husband,  by  the  help  of  the  faithful 
Lord,  spoke  in  demonstration  of  the  spirit  from 
Galatians,  chapter  vt,  verse  1.  Subject,  The 
two  covenants,  showing  the  meaning  and  im- 
portance of  baptism.  Then  retired  to  the  water, 
where  Brother  E,  Brock  was  led  down  into  the 
beautiful  stream  that  rolled  sweetly  at  the  base 
of  a  hill,  and  came  out  with  loud  praises  to  God, 
Then  followed  the  tried  sister  E.  Corsou,  who 
had  been  much  remonstrated  with  for  her  strict 
adherence  to  the  command  of  God;  but  the 
Holy  Spirit  hovered  over  her,  and  accepted 
the  obedient  child.  She  came  out  saying,  I  was 
right,  it  is  the  Lord's  will  that  I  have  done. 

Husband  was  happy,  I  felt  that  I  had  mar- 
ried one  commissioned  of  God  to  go  preach 
and  baptize  ;  and  that  God  did  own  and  bless 
him  at  this  time.  How  beauteous  are  the  feet 

s 


i)tf  LIFE   AND   WHITINGS    OF 

of  those  who  stand  on  Zion's  hill.  Why  should 
we  doubt?  The  Great  Head  of  the  church  will 
direct  in  every  step  those  whose  eye  and  trust 
is  wholly  on  him.  From  obedience  to  the  call 
to  go  to  meeting  on  the  13th,  at  Deacon's  B's., 
these  saints  came  forward  ;  and  from  this  meet- 
ing was  appointed  another  for  others  who  were 
desirous  of  following  Christ.  Thus  the  work  is  . 
carried  on  by  the  unfailing  hand  of  our  Re- 
deemer. All  praise  belongs  to  his  name,  for 
great  is  his  loving  kindness. 

Monday. — Called  to  see  sister  Corson  ;  found 
her  happy ;  she  said  she  could  now  say  with  a 
calm  that  she  never  before  felt,  that  to  obey  is 
better  than  sacrifice.  In  the  evening  returned 
home,  praying  that  we  might  bring  Jesus  with 
us,  a  prayer  peculiarly  answered.  Never  did  I 
enjoy  more  of  the  presence  of  God  than  while 
sitting  by  our  own  fireside  conversing  on  the 
divinity  of  Christ,  and  his  great  mission  to 
earth  to  purchase  with  his  blood  the  privilege 
we  this  moment  enjoy.  Truly  his  spirit  teaches 
as  never  man  taught, —  searching  the  deep 
things  of  God  ;  who,  when  dying,  the  power 
that  left  his  human  body,  shook  all  creation  and 
returning  carried  that  body  to  heaven.  Re- 
turned again  to  earth  and  is  now  at  the  door  of 
every  man's  heart,  even  the  heathen.  Every 
man  that  comcth  into  the  world  feels  this 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  1)9 

knowledge  of  right  and  wrong  and  reverence 
for  one  begotten  of  the  spirit  of  God.  Oh,  the 
wisdom  that  cometh  from  above,  how  deep  I 

20th. —  Visited  Brother  Stevens'  family, — 
found  an  afflicted  yet  very  patient  young  fe- 
male, whose  trust  was  in  her  Saviour.  In  the 
afternoon  a  large  assembly  met  at  Brother  J. 
Fernald's  ;  sermon  by  Elder  D.  Blaisdell :  after 
which  repaired  to  the  banks  of  the  pond  near, 
and  saw  my  husband  lead  William  Randall  and 
J.  Fall  into  the  water,  in  obedience  to  the  com- 
mand of  their  blessed  Lord. 

April,  1st. — My  husband  troubled  in  soul 
for  Brother  Fernald's  son  ;  saw  him  bow  the 
knee  and  beg  for  mercy  ;  trust  he  was  deliv- 
ered. After  several  calls,  with  an  uncommon 
pressure  of  mind,  arrived  at  Brother  J.  Blais- 
dell's  —  believed  it  duty  to  call,  knew  not  why  ; 
but  the  hand  of  God  never  leads  his  obedient 
children  wrong,  although  human  wisdom  can- 
not fathom  the  design.  The  angel  of  mercy 
came.  His  only  daughter  bowed  and  begged 
for  mercy,  and  the  Lord  came  and  smiled  on 
us,  we  humbly  trust.  I  have  not  for  several 
days  felt  so  immersed  into  the  spirit  and  work 
of  God  as  I  desire,  but  now  feel  the  Lord  is 
near  to  grant  my  prayers.  I  will  not  rest  in 
such  sloth. 

-Sabbath,  3rd. —  Husband  preached  at  the 
meeting  house  from  Mutt.  Give  place. 


100  LIFE    AND   AVUrilA'GS    OF 

April,  1th.—  Fast  day— \ve  meet  for  bap- 
tism at  Uriah  Blaisdell's.  Husband  spoke  from 
Ephesians  iv.  5  — one  Lord,  one  faith,  one  bap- 
tism. 1st.  The  one  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  God 
made  manifest  in  the  flesh,  the  same  that  was  be- 
fore Abraham  ;  that  was  born  of  the  virgin  ;  that 
wrought  miracles  as  God  ;  that  suffered  as  man  ; 
that  ascended  to  glory  and  is  now  by  his  spirit 
lighting  every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world. 
2d.  Our  knowledge  of  Him  by  faith,  and  this 
without  works  is  dead.  3d.  The  works  neces- 
sary to  keep  faith  alive,  in  which  baptism  as  a 
command  of  God  is  included.  Hence  we  ac- 
knowledge the  one  true  God  by  obedience  to 
his  command,  accompanied  with  faith  in  his 
word.  His  wonderful  spirit  was  hovering 
around  the  spot  when  the  ordinance  was  ad- 
ministered, in  an  unusual  degree.  Sister  Good- 
win led  in  by  my  husband  seemed  to  stand  upon 
the  water,  so  tilled  with  the  spirit  that  she  did 
not  realize  that  she  was  in  the  water,  or  was 
baptized  beneath  the  waves.  The  happiest 
scene  I  ever  witnessed  of  the  kind  ;  after  her  a 
lad  about  eleven  years  of  age. 

Sth. — Deacon  Burrows  called  to  request  Mr. 
C.  to  attend  a  meeting  at  his  house  on  the  Sab- 
bath. Through  the  day  waded  through  deep 
trials,  yet  holding  on  to  faith  as  my  only  prop ; 
but  rested  my  soul  on  Jesus. 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  101 

Sabbath  morning. — One  of  the  happiest  of 
life ;  I  with  my  companion  seemed  to  pass  into 
the  Canaan  of  rest  and  joy  by  faith,  and  tasted 
its  fruits.  Oh,  glory  to  God  for  the  hope  of 
heaven  and  the  presence  of  our  dear  Jesus  while 
journeying  along  !  Met  a  happy  company  of 
saints.  Sermon  from  Solomon's  Songs,  instruc- 
tive and  delivered  with  power ;  it  was  food  to 
our  taste  and  water  to  thirsty  souls.  5  o'clock, 
at  Mr.  Stevens,  where  our  dear  sister  was  sick, 
but  very  happy  in  the  Lord,  Sermon,  There 
remains  a  rest  for  the  people  of  God.  A  very 
refreshing  season  ;  saints  alive. 

\Wi. — Went  to  the  protracted  meeting  in  the 
east  part  of  the  town  ;  rather  low,  but  prayed 
and  labored  until  help  from  the  upper  regions 
came  down. 

Tuesday  evening. — Mr.  C.  spoke  from  John 
iv.  6, —  Wilt  thou  be  made  whole?  Spoke  of 
the  unhappy  disease  of  sin,  and  the  remedy, 
yrctce. 

\\~<-dne$d<uj. — Prayer  and  exhortation  through 
the  day ;  many  came  forward  to  the  anxious 
seats. 

Thursday. —  Mr.  C.  preached  forenoon  and 
afternoon.  At  the  close  there  was  great  power, 
many  crying  together  to  God  for  mercy,  and 
some  found  deliverance,  to  the  praise  of  God. 
The  cry  had  got  into  the  heart  of  Zion. 


102  LIFE    AND   WRITINGS   OF 

Friday. —  A  refreshing  shower  fell  upon  us, 
and  there  was  a  shout  in  the  camp.  My  soul 
was  fed  from  the  banqueting  house  of  God's 
love. 

April,  23rd. —  Attended  meeting  at  Deacon 
Burrows';  happy  season.  Sisters  Martha  Doe 
and  Elizabeth  Burrows  offered  themselves  for 
baptism. 

Sabbath  morning,  23th. —  A  very  large  as- 
sembly collected  at  Brother  U.  Blaisdell's. 
Mr.  C.  spoke  with  much  of  the  presence  and 
aid  of  the  spirit  from  Romans  ii.  7,  8,  9.  1st. 
The  honor  that  the  natural  man  seeks  passes 
away  and  brings  no  joy,  as  of  the  conquerors 
of  kingdoms  who  have  died  and  their  honors 
with  them ;  the  liability  of  the  professor  to 
seek  for  honor  from  the  world  and  himself 
rather  than  from  his  Lord.  2d.  The  sure  way 
of  gaining  honor  that  is  immortal,  viz.,  patience 
and  continuance  in  doing  right. .  3d.  The  glory 
and  happiness  of  the  eternal  life  promised.  4th. 
The  character  of  the  contentious  and  disobe- 
dient and  the  fearful  denunciations  against  them. 
An  uncommon  degree  of  feeling  both  of  joy  and 
sorrow.  Martha  Clark  came  forward  with  the 
above  named  sisters,  were  baptized  and  went 
on  their  way  rejoicing.  Others  also  desirous 
of  going  forward  soon. 

Monday. —  Felt  impressed  to  write  a  line  of 


MUS.    rilKTSTIANA    P>.    COWELL.  103 

warning  to  Miss  L.  D.,  who  was  once  engaged 
in  religion,  but  very  low.  Felt  sweet  peace 
after  doing  what  I  could,  hoping  the  blessing 
of  God  might  attend.  In  the  afternoon  visited 
Widow  Legro,  who  has  long  been  afflicted  ;  felt 
the  approbation  of  God  while  trying  to  talk  and 
pray  with  her.  Happy  are  they  who  wait  only 
on  the  Lord.  Selah. 

3I«>/,  2/tfL — Went  to  the  conference  at 
Deacon  Burrows',  and  there  enjoyed  the  re- 
freshing presence  of  our  God.  Our  aged 
Brother  Elder  D.  Blaisdell,  though  very  feeble 
and  sick,  felt  the  animation  and  strength  of 
youth ;  his  soul  was  filled  and  his  voice  like 
peals  of  thunder.  Others  were  very  much 
swallowed  up  in  the  boundless  ocean  of  God's 
eternal  love.  Praise  and  honor  are  due  to  his 
name  forever. 

Friday. —  After  an  affectionate  parting  with 
our  dear  friends,  rode  to  Great  Falls.  In  the 
evening  attended  Brother  Home's  class, —  good 
time.  Next  day  called  on  old  friends  of  Mr. 
C's. —  was  much  affected  in  view  of  the  busy 
world  and  the  many  active  minds  that  well 
might  rise  in  the  scientific,  moral  and  religious 
world  so  buried  and  bound  in  the  cares  of  a 
selfish  world.  -  The  same  routine  day  after  day. 
Oh,  the  thousand  demands  of  nature  that  the 
industrious  hand  must  meet.  In  the  afternoon 


104  LIFE   AND    WRITINGS    OF 

rode  to  B.  Kidge,  called  at  Brother  Hanscom's, 
found  them  very  low  and  distressed  ;  prayed 
with  them  and  gave  words  of  encouragement. 
Spent  the  night  at  Brother  I.  Heard's ;  enjoyed 
a  good  season,  especially  with  old  father  Smith 
and  wife. 

Sabbath  morning. —  Went  to  the  meeting  ; 
large  number  assembled.  The  church  rather 
low.  Preaching  forenoon  and  afternoon.  But 
few  met  for  prayer  meeting ;  find  the  brethren 
all  chained  in  the  dungeon  of  Giant  Despair ; 
but  we  think  the  Lord  is  calling  them  to  arise 
and  throw  off  their  chains  and  move  forward. 

Monday. —  Spent  in  calling  from  house  to 
house ;  enjoyed  the  approbation  and  presence 
of  God  at  times,  yet  clouds  and  the  depression 
of  Zion  often  roll  over  us.  Still  we  are  deter- 
mined to  conquer  though  we  die. 

10th. —  Cold,  windy  morning;  with  a  heav- 
enly peace  of  mind  rode  to  Lebanon. 

23rd. —  Happy  meeting  of  the  sisters  at  L. 
D.  Spent  a  few  days  in  visiting,  especially  the 
sick,  and  attending  meetings.  New  Durham 
Quarterly  Meeting  held  its  session  with  the 
church  in  Lebanon.  Sermons  by  Elders  San- 
born,  Davis,  Pinkham  and  T.  Stevens.  Mr. 
C.  could  not  sleep  through  the  night  on  account 
of  distress  he  felt  for  the  people. 

26th. —  Rode  to  North  Berwick  ;  met  after  a 


MES.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COW  ELL.  105 

year's  absence  with  the  friends  on  B.  B.  Hill. 
In  this  place  husband  had  labored  with  sorrow 
and  great  opposition,  and  the  Lord  blessed  his 
labors  in  the  salvation  of  many  souls. 

June,  1st — Waterbo rough  Quarterly  Meeting 
holds  its  session  in  this  place.  Very  interesting 
meeting  ;  prospect  of  good. 

Friday. —  Went  to  B.  Ridge  from  a  sense  of 
duty.  We  felt  that  the  Lord  was  ready  to 
come  and  revive  his  work,  but  the  church  was 
very  low.  Visit  from  house  to  house,  trying 
to  stir  up  their  pure  minds  by  way  of  remem- 
brance. Some  were  tenacious  of  their  indul- 
gences, which  we  thought  detrimental  to  the 
cause  of  Christ. 

Sabbath. —  Listened  to  an  excellent  discourse 
from  sister  Mrs.  D.  H.  Lord.  I  believe  the 
Lord  directed. 

Monday. —  Husband  gathered  the  brethren  in 
church  meeting,  while  I  met  with  the  sisters  in 
a  prayer  meeting,  and  saw  them  covenant  to- 
gether to  continue  the  female  prayer  meeting 
until  they  saw  a  revival  of  religion.  .Long  shall 
I  remember  that  first  prayer  meeting. 

Tuesday. —  Spent  in  visiting,  talking  and 
praying  with  the  people. 

8th. —  Returned  to  Lebanon  ;  the  meeting  had 
continued  fifteen  days  ;  several  had  been  convert- 
ed, but  the  work  did  not  seem  so  deep  and  thor- 

6' 


106  LIFE   AND    WRITINGS    OF 

ough  as  desired.  Some  labored,  while  others 
we  feared  held  prejudice  or  something  that  kept 
them  from  the  sanctuary.  Mr.  C.  and  myself 
have  for  months  felt  a  great  pressure  in  the 
place.  Yet  the  Lord  has  given  us  feelings  for 
the  people  to  pray  for  enemies.  *  I  feel  as 
though  I  would  spend  and  be  spent  to  save  these 
souls.  Many  I  fear  will  go  to  ruin  through  the 
stubborn  or  blind  idleness  of  professors  in  this 
place.  Oh,  for  a  sweeping  power  that  shall 
destroy  all  the  hay,  wood  and  stubble  from 
God's  house. 

12th. —  An  anxious  meeting  where  nearly 
forty  assembled  to  be  conversed  with,  at  D.  "W. 
Home's,  while  brethren  met  for  prayer  at  the 
meeting  house. 

June,  28th.. —  Heavenly  season  on  the  sandy 
banks  of  Winnepisogee  Lake,  near  old  Elder 
Townsend's,  in  Wolfeborough,  where  Mr.  C. 
baptised  James  Edgerly,  George  Y.  Firbir  and 
Widow  Edgerly,  as  the  sun  was  casting  its 
silver  rays  over  that  beautiful  sheet  of  water. 
God's  approval  of  right  motives  in  great  enter- 
prises. Changes  of  national  government  mani- 
fest in  America.  The  adventurers,  Cortez  and 
Pizarro,  from  Spain  and  Portugal,  for  selfish 
gain,  proved  a  curse,  followed  by  anarchy  from 
Mexico  to  Chili.  Nor  were  the  English  settle- 
ments under  Raleigh  and  Smith  successful. 


MUM.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COW  ELL.  107 

Twenty-five  years  after  the  discovery  of  Amer- 
ica, Luther  shot  forth  a  divine  light,  over  the 
darkness  of  the  Old  World.  England  became 
protestant  with  many  errors.  To  reform  these 
became  the  aim  of  some  who  were  called  Puri- 
tans. Puritan  age  began  in  fifteen  hundred 
and  fifty.  In  fifty-eight,  eight  years  later, 
Queen  Elizabeth  reigned  ;  but  did  not  favor  the 
Puritans.  The  church  of  England  was  estab- 
lished in  fifteen  hundred  and  sixty-four.  In 
fifteen  hundred  and  ninety-two  a  law  was  passed 
requiring  all  to  attend  the  established  worship 
under  penalty  of  banishment,  and  death,  if  re- 
turned. Under  the  pressure  of  these  persecu- 
tions, the  humble,  Heaven-trusting  band  came 
to  America.  Not  for  gold,  power  or  honor, 
but  to  worship  God.  Seeking  a  worship  with- 
out a  prelate ;  government  without  a  king. 
Hence  from  such  affliction  baptized  rose  the 
glorious  superstructure  of  religious  tolerance 
and  benign  institutions  of  America.  England 
attached  the  death  penalty  to  over  one  hundred 
crimes.  The  Puritans  reduced  theirs  to  eleven. 
They  strove  to  raise  men  to  the  dignity  of  law. 
Now  men  degrade  the  law  to  a  level  with  their 
corrupt  selves.  They  made  Christian  character 
and  membership  requisite  to  a  civil  office.  Who 
should  direct  the  affairs  of  government  but  men 
of  God?  The  latter  scorned  their  only  dofonco 


108  LIFE   AND   WETTINGS    OF 

against  the  English  Church.  John  Elliot's  In- 
dian Testament  was  published  in  1661 ;  the 
Old  Testament  in  1663.  He  founded  a  church 
and  built  a  meeting  house  in  Natick,,—  all  In- 
dians, some  years  before.  In  the  same  lan- 
guage Elliot  translated  Baxter's  Call,  and  other 
books,  and  made  a  grammar.  When  Elliot 
was  seventy,  King  Philip's  war  begun,  which 
was  the  knell  to  the  Massachusetts  Indians. 
They  were  sent  to  Deer  Isle,  where  the  aged 
Elliot  visited  and  comforted  them.  The  day  of 
his  death  he  was  teaching  an  Indian  chief  his 
alphabet.  His  last  words  were,  Welcome  joy. 
Died  rich  in  faith  and  good  works,  86  years  of 
age. 

July,  1842. —  Visited  relatives  in  Hampton 
Little  River,  (so  called)  where  we  saw  the 
power  of  God  displayed  in  a  wonderful  manner  ; 
many  of  the  fishermen  of  that  place  signed  the 
temperance  pledge.  Have  meetings  in  Rye ; 
some  revival. 

July  4:th. —  Went  to  Kensington  to  what 
was  then  called  a  Miller  Campmeetiug.  Mr. 
Miller  was  present,  preaching  the  doctrine  ac- 
cording to  his  reckoning  that  Christ  would 
make  his  second  appearance  in  the  year  eighteen 
hundred  and  fifty-three,  which  caused  great 
excitement  throughout  the  land.  Charts  were 
exhibited,  endeavoring  to  show  that  the  proph- 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.-  COWELL.  109 

ecy  of  Daniel  would  be  fulfilled  at  that  time. 
Great  enquiry  to  know  if  these  things  were  so ; 
there  we  met  Elder  Elias  Smith  for  the  first 
time ;  enquired  of  what  he  thought  of  the 
doctrine  ;  replied  that  he  did  not  believe  the 
Lord  would  reveal  to  us  down  here  in  the 
bushes  what  he  would  not  let  his  Angels  know. 
Returned  to  Lebanon  with  the  expectation  of 
soon  visiting  Hampton  again  ;  but  the  work  of 
the  Lord  commenced  again  in  power,  scores 
were  flocking  to  Christ,  therefore  tarried  at 
Lebanon  for  several  months  ;  husband  preach- 
ing and  baptizing  the  happy  converts. 

Jan.  28th,  1843.— Birth  of  a  daughter. 

March. — Visit  my  old  home  at  Wolfeborough. 
Mr.  C.  returns  to  Lebanon.  On  account  of  the 
drifting  snow  had  to  stay  at  W.  several  weeks 
before  my  husband  could  come  for  me  to  return 
to  my  home  in  Lebanon.  Spent  the  summer 
in  domestic  afiairs,  visiting,  and  attending 
meetings.  For  the  few  past  years  my  husband 
has  traveled  some  among  destitute  churches, 
but  on  account  of  poor  health  has  engaged  some 
in  the  labors  on  his  farm.  "NVe  have  done  what 
we  could  to  advance  the  cause  of  education  in 
this  place,  so  much  so  that  the  friends  of  edu- 
cation propose  to  build  an  Academy,  that  the 
youth  may  have  the  privilege  of  storing  their 
minds  with  useful  knowledge. 


110  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

April  15th,  1847. —  Birthday  of  our  oldest 
son.  Felt  a  divine  consolation  as  in  spirit  I 
drew  near  the  altar  of  God  and  gave  back  the 
gift  I  had  received,  most  sincerely  praying  that 
he  may  be  taken  into  the  house  of  God  as  his 
servant,  and  if  continued  on  earth,  that  his  life 
be  one  of  holy  consecration  to  God  and  eminent 
usefulness.  I  would  ever  feel  that  living  or 
dying  he  is  not  mine  but  his  who  gave  him.  I 
pass  the  spring  and  summer  in  feeble  health, 
often  quite  worn  out  with  the"  care  of  my  little 
one  who  seems  to  share  my  infirmities,  requir- 
ing many  hours  of  care.  A  dear  brother  who 
feels  that  his  sphere  in  life  is  to  be  one  of  re- 
sponsibility and  spiritual  labor,  seeks  some 
facilities  for  moral  and  mental  culture  at  the 
Oberliu  Institute,  Ohio.  The  friends  of  Ziou 
groan,  being  burdened  while  they  behold  her 
waste  places,  made  so  by  the  great  Advent 
excitement ;  a  chilly  delusion  seems  to  spread 
all  over  the  churches.  And  the  words  of  the 
faithful  fall  like  idle  tales  upon  the  ear  of  the 
hardened  in  sin.  A  heavy  despondency  presses 
upon  the  hearts  of  such  as  seek  the  soul's  best 
interest. 


But  there's  a  light  religion  gives 
Serener  far  than  Luna's  ray  ; 

That  wanders  'mid  the  folding  leaves, 
Or  on  the  sleeping  waters  lay. 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  Ill 

Young  pilgrim  o'er  life's  stormy  sea, 
By  fearful  tempests  wildly  driven, 

Look  up,  look  up,  it  shines  for  thee, 
And  points  thy  fragile  bark  to  Heaven. 

1847.—  Our  housed  father,  Rev.  S.  Coffin 
and  mother  C.  are  visiting  the  Western  States 
—  Illinois,  Wisconsin  and  Iowa.  Father  is 
laboring  with  good  success,  seeing  saints  re- 
vived and  many  hardy  sous  of  the  prairies  sub- 
mitting to  be  saved  by  gospel  grace. 

Sept.  —  Joyfully  welcome  our  returning 
parents  after  an  absence  of  twelve  months, 
safely  returned  to  count  the  blessings  and  pre- 
serving mercies  of  God  in  bringing  them  safely 
through  their  journeyings  of  some  five  thousand 
miles.  Greatly  interesting  to  hear  their  recitals 
of  the  past  year.  Father  had  been  very  near 
the  gate  of  death  with  fever.  Sister  C.  is 
teacher  in  Charlestown  Female  Seminary, 
where  she  has  an  opportunity  of  doing  much 
good.  Sister  S.,  having  finished  her  education 
at  Hartford  is  a  seamstress  in  Rochester  Village, 
New  Hampshire. 

Dec. —  Visit  Wolfeboro ugh.  While  here,  a 
little  brother,  John  Riley  Coffin,  aged  two 
years,  sickened  and  died  ;  a  sad  bereavement ; 
while  we  weep  his  loss  on  earth  angels  welcome 
his  sinless  spirit  to  regions  of  light,  health  and 
love. 


112  LIFE    AND   WRITINGS   OF 

June. — Visit  Ossipee  and  East  Wolfeborough, 
—  enjoy  a  heavenly  season  at  Brother  Nute's. 
Found  Sister  N.  sick  ;  she  seemed  much  revived 
in  spirit  when  we  left.  Some  interest  in  Ossi- 
pee, but  very  low.  Callefl  at  J.  Plnmmer's  in 
Milton, —  a  good  spiritual  family,  where  we 
have  had  many  pleasant  spiritual  visits  ;  learned 
that  a  good  Sister  Varney  wanted  to  see  Mr.  C, 
but  he  could  not  conveniently  go,  as  she  lived 
a  few  miles  away. 

Oct. — Rev.  O.  B.  Cheney  and  home  breth- 
ren thought  best  to  commence  a  protracted 
meeting  at  Lebanon  and  make  an  effort  to 
break  from  the  spell-like  gloom  that  brooded 
over  us.  Elder  Elias  Hutchins  labored  with 
us  in  love,  meekness  and  much  assurance. 
Some  displays  of  God's  power  were  manifest  in 
moving  saints,  and  two  or  three  sinners  in- 
dulged a  hope  in  Christ.  But  far  less  victory 
was  gained  than  hoped  for ;  yet  those  who 
humbly  labored  were  made  to  rejoice  in  the 
glorious  light  of  God's  approving  smiles ;  but 
to  some  we  fear,  those  means  of  grace  were  a 
savor  of  death  unto  death. 

Feb. — Visited  "Wolfeborough  again  and  called 
on  our  good  Brother  Plummer's ;  learned  that 
Sister  Varney  was  desirous  for  Mr.  C.  to  stop 
in  the  place.  Groaning  in  spirit  and  believing 
that  Mr.  C.  had  a  work  to  do  there  for  the 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COW  ELL.  113 

Lord,  is  why  she  had  requested  him  to  call. 
As  he  had  felt  an  increasing  interest  for  the 
place,  Mr.  C.  left  me  at  W.  and  went  back. 
No  sooner  had  he  entered  the  place,  than  the 
spirit  of  the  Lord  fell  upon  him  and  his  sonl 
travailed  for  perishing  sinners.  Before  the 
setting  of  the  sun  that  day  he  saw  poor  back- 
sliders, long  slain  witnesses,  humbly  confessing 
to  God  and  seeking  their  first  love.  The  work 
spread  in  a  powerful  manner,  until  some  twenty 
young  men  and  several  young  ladies  were  trust- 
ing in  the  pardoning  mercy  of  God  ;  a  bright 
dawning  on  the  long  darkness  that  had  envel- 
oped Zion.  While  at  Wolfeborongh,  my  little 
son  was  very  sick  with  the  croup,  and  I  felt  the 
calm  trust  with  which  I  had  given  him  up 
strangely  tested;  but  was  enabled  to  say, 
Lord,  he  is  thine,  do  as  it  pleases  thee  with 
thy  own.  Lo  !  when  my  stricken  soul  looked 
for  death,  life  and  health  were  given,  and  my 
heart  praised  God.  Mr.  Cowell,  having  labored 
day  and  night,  came  to  "NY.  for  a  little  rest, 
and  to  take  me  back  with  him  to  West  -Milton. 
Here  my  soul  was  awed  with  a  deep  sense  of 
the  awful  presence  of  God,  but  hesitated  not, 
but  to  do  with  my  might  what  I  found  to  do. 
One  evening  while  the  anxious  were  going 
forward  for  prayers,  one  3-011  ng  man  arose, 
singing,  I  am  on  my  way  to  Canaan,  and 


114  LIFE    AND    WHITINGS    OF 

walked  to  the  anxious  seat ;  others  arose  from 
their  knees  after  praying  and  commenced  sing- 
ing, "We'll  disappoint  the  devil."  To  those 
who  knew  how  long  and  hard  satan  had  held 
these  young  men,  to  see  them  thus  break  his 
ranks,  was  a  scene  of  thrilling  interest. 

One  evening  I  went  to  take  a  seat  among  the 
anxious  to  mingle  my  prayers  for  their  deliver- 
ance ;  I  happened  to  take  a  seat  by  a  young 
lady,  a  stranger,  who  was  weeping  bitterly. 
I  turned  to  speak  a  word  of  encouragement, 
when  I  heard  a  heavy,  quick  step  behind  me, 
and  the  hand  of  her  father  was  on  my  shoulder. 
I  turned  round  and  met  a  gaze  that  I  shall 
never  forget.  Rage  and  fury  seemed  flashing 
from  his  eyes  and  his  looks  I  dare  not  describe. 
He  charged  me  not  to  «oax  his  daughter,  he 
did  not  want  it.  I  smiled  assent.  I  felt  that 
God  was  my  defense,  I  could  pray  for  those 
who  would  not  go  themselves,  and  those  that 
would,  they  hindered.  I  afterwards  learned 
that  the  adversary  made  a  mistake  in  this  move ; 
for  a  hardened  young  man  who  was  sitting  with 
this  father,  in  seeing  him  persecute  me,  as  he 
said,  began  to  reflect, —  is  this  my  company  that 
I  have  chosen  to  associate  with ;  such  a  spirit 
will  eertafMy  have  its  punishment.  Such 
thoughts  so  fastened  on  the  young  man  that  he 
sajv  his  wretched  state  and  fled  to  Christ,  and 


MUS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  115 

found  a  happy  freedom  from  his  guilt.  Mr.  C. 
soon  baptized  him  with  several  other  happy 
converts.  But  how  soon  was  this  bright  scene 
to  be  overshadowed.  A  minister,  wrho  formerly 
preached  there,  now  a  very  ultra  Adventist, 
canie  in  with  a  spirit  of  controvers}7 ;  and  some 
old  professors  who  had  stood  aloof  from  the 
work,  began  to  cast  fire  brands  among  the  flock 
and  a  distressing  declension  followed.  May 
some  of  the  converts  live  to  honor  and  glorify 
God. 

April  18th. —  Have  several  boarders,  schol- 
ars who  are  attending  the  Academy.  En- 
deavor to  exert  a  holy  influence  over  them. 
They  often  join  us  in  reading  the  Bible  in  the 
morning  ;  have  several  interesting  conversations 
with  them,  especially  with  one  young  man  who 
professes  infidelity. 

June. —  Left  alone.  Sit  at  our  table  with  our 
own  family,  it  being  the  first  time  for  four 
months  past.  Prepare  for  the  Yearly  Meeting, 
which  is  the  "VV.  H.  Yearly  Meeting.  Much 
company.  Among  others,  Ruel  Cooley  and 
wife,  who  are  soon  to  sail  to  India  as  mission- 
aries,—  lovely  couple.  Heaven's  blessings  at- 
tend them  !  A  vast  crowd  at  the  meeting.  My 
health  extremely  poor.  Part  with  Belinda  Fol- 
som,  a  kind  young  girl,  who  has  assisted  me, — 
a  student  for  several  months. 


116  LIFE    AND   WRITINGS    OF 

June  24:th. —  Found  myself  under  new  obli- 
gations to  honor  and  thank  God  for  his  preserv- 
ing grace.  Another  little  son  was  given  to  our 
charge,  another  offering  to  be  made  on  the  altar 
of  God,  another  soul  to  train  for  eternal  des- 
tinies. Oh,  how  my  spirits  are  pressed  by  the 
weight  of  responsibilities  !  Heaven's  throne  is 
a  fountain  of  wisdom.  What  a  privilege  to  be 
permitted  to  draw  therefrom  !  Three  little  ones 
now  to  call  me  mother,  and  look  to  me  to  shape 
their  future  characters.  The  summer  is  one  of 
extreme  debility,  sometimes  just  quivering  on 
the  verge  of  time,  just  ready  to  launch  away. 
Oh,  what  sublime  and  solemn  views  were  before 
my  mind,  as  I  neared  the  awful  scenes  of  eter- 
nity !  The  parting  hour  on  earth;  the  real, 
undreaming  review  in  which  my  life  should 
pass  before  the  eye  of  eternal  justice  ;  the  strict 
scrutiny  of  my  hopes,  were  passing  often  through 
my  mind  ;  and  while  friends  came  silently  around 
my  bed,  as  they  supposed,  to  take  a  linal  look 
at  my  pale  features,  my  soul  seemed  held  in 
perfect  quiet.  There  was  another  scene  in  life 
that  I  believed  I  should  act.  One  object  far 
above  all  others  seemed  to  hold  my  mind  yet 
a  little  longer.  Though  helpless  ones  were 
around,  and  near  friends  to  wish  my  stay,  yet 
the  thought  that  I  should  be  the  humble  means 
of  leading  some  perishing  soul  to  Christ,  made 


MUS.    CHRISTIANA    U.    COWELL.  117 

me  feel  that  life's  work  was  not  yd  done.  When 
1  was  able  to  get  to  the  window,  to  look  upon 
the  earth,  a  dismal  scene  presented  itself.  Veg- 
etation was  withering  away  beneath  a  scorching 
sun  day  after  day  ;  springs  and  fountains  of 
water  were  dried  up,  and  far  as  eye  could  see 
MUS  desolation  and  dearth.  Papers  brought  in- 
telligence that  cholera  was  raging  to  an  alarm- 
ing extent.  A  day  of  prayer  was  appointed  by 
the  Governor  of  the  State,  for  us  to  remember 
before  God  our  sins,  with  humility,  and  pray 
for  mercy  in  the  midst  of  judgments.  Never 
shall  I  forget  the  grateful  emotions  with  which 
I  was  aroused  from  a  short  slumber  by  a  copious 
fall  of  rain.  The  rush  of  the  wind,  and  the 
dash  of  the  big  drops  against  my  window  made 
delightful  music,  which  seemed  to  waft  upward 
my  grateful  soul  in  humble  praise  to  God,  who 
hears  and  answers  prayer,  and  who  has  said, 
"  Call  upon  me  in  the  day  of  trouble,  and  I  will 
hear." 

After  I  was  able  to  leave  my  room,  I  received 
a  visit  from  my  brother  from  Oberlin  Institu- 
tion, Ohio,  with  his  wife,  a  teacher  in  the  Insti- 
tution. My  brother  had  been  absent  two  and  a 
half  years.  I  was  so  overcome  with  joy  at  see- 
ing them,  that  I  could  not  speak,  and  my  weak 
frame  trembled  violently,  and  I  was  obliged  to 
take  my  bed.  His  wife  was  taken  very  sick, 


118  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

for  several  days  uimhle  to  rise  from  her  bed. 
It  seemed  a  time  of  peculiar  afflictions,  yet  we 
trusted  in  Him  who  said,  "My  grace  is  suffi- 
cient." I  parted  with  my  brother  and  his  wife, 
feeling  it  among  the  uncertainties  that  we  should 
ever  meet  on  earth  again.  Felt  to  pray  that  he, 
with  ourselves,  be  possessed  with  that  humble, 
meek  grace  that  shall  convert  life's  ills  to  sanc- 
tifying blessings,  and  prepare  for  greater  use- 
fulness. 

Have  long  been  in  the  furnace  of  affliction, 
but  feel  that  I  shall  yet  see  a  day  of  peace  and 
greater  prosperity.  Mr.  C.  labors  part  of  the 
time  on  Plummer's  Ridge,  in  Milton,  and  sees 
considerable  interest  manifested. 

March. —  Begin  to  feel  that  God  is  drawing 
near  us  again  in  mercy.  Remarked  to  callers 
one  day,  I  was  quite  sure  we  should  see  the 
power  of  the  Lord  displayed,  and  felt  a  singular 
assurance.  They  looked  surprised,  and  seemed 
to  say,  I  hope  so,  but  do  not  see  any  prospect. 
Our  spirits  were  burdened  with  a  sense  of  God's 
sublime  presence  in  the  place.  Mr.  C.  held  a 
meeting,  and  a  solemn  feeling  of  conviction  was 
evident,  especially  among  the  students  of  the 
Academy  ;  lukewarm  professors  were  revived. 
Mr.  C.  held  a  consultation  with  the  Preceptor 
of  the  Academy,  Rev.  O.  B.  Cheney,  saying  to 
him,  he  believed  good  was  coming.  Mr.  Cheney 


.    ClliasTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  119 


commenced  having  meetings  at  the  Academy, 
mornings  and  evenings,  and  a  wonderful  out- 
pouring of  God's  Spirit  followed.  One  morn- 
ing a  lad  came  to  our  door,  his  eyes  red  with 
weeping,  exclaiming,  "Do  go  out  to  the  Acad- 
emy. We  attempted  to  begin  the  school,"  he 
said,  "  and  those  who  could  not  study  on  account 
of  the  burden  of  sin,  went  up  into  the  hall  to 
pray  ;  those  below  attempted  to  go  on  with  their 
studies  and  recitations  ;  but  one  after  another 
would  close  their  books  to  listen  to  the  groans 
and  cries  above,  until  they  all  left  the  school- 
room and  joined  the  praying  company."  By 
noon,  several  who  had  been  vain  young  persons, 
came  into  our  doors,  smiling  with  heavenly  joy  ; 
they  felt  that  their  sins  were  forgiven.  Several 
of  the  scholars  indulged  a  hope  in  Christ,  some 
of  whom,  we  confidently  hope,  will  be  instru- 
ments of  great  good  in  this  sinful  world.  It 
seemed  that  my  own  soul,  while  permitted  to 
encourage  and  help  lead  along  these  precious 
lambs  of  the  flock,  and  weep  and  pray  with  the 
distressed  and  rejoice  with  those  that  rejoice, 
attained  to  a  place  nearer  to  the  throne  of  God 
and  fountain  of  heavenly  joy  than  it  ever  before 
found.  I  felt  that  I  belonged  to  God  ;  I  was 
not  my  own,  but  His,  to  do  with  me  as  seemeth 
good.  Precious  consecration  !  Nearer,  nearer 
let  me  nestle  to  thy  faithful  bosom,  O  my  Father. 


120  LIFE   AND'  WRITINGS   OF 

Sweetly  draw  me  by  thy  love.     Let  me  never 
from  thee  stray. 

Though  the  world  with  charms  may  dazzle, 

To  lure  my  heart  to  seek  its  joy  ; 
Yet  here  alone  is  Pleasure's  fountain, 

Holy,  deep,  without  alloy. 

Oh  !  what  vain,  deluded  mortals  ! 

That  dream  away  life's  fleeting  hour. 
Without  one  glance  at  Heaven's  mercies, 

Till  they're  withdrawn  and  all  is  o'er. 

Then  what  anguish  !  Oh,  what  anguish  ! 

Will  possess  the  waking  soul, 
To  mourn  a  Saviour's  offers  slighted, 

While  unceasing  ages  roll. 

March,  1849. —  A  very  interesting  conversa- 
tion with  my  little  daughter  six  years  old. 
After  reading  to  her  a  pretty  story  of  a  dying 
mother  conversing  with  her  little  daughter 
about  heaven,  my  little  girl  came  and  threw 
her  arms  around  my  neck,  saying  with  sobs  and 
tears,  mamma,  I  want  to  go  to  Heaven  and  live 
with  you  and  all  the  good.  After  telling  her 
that  God  required  of  us  lives  of  prayer  and 
holiness,  she  resolved  to  pray  daily  and  never 
do  wrong  if  she  could  help  it.  What  will  you 
do  with  the  wrong  you  have  already  done  ?  I 
inquired  ;  you  know  it  is  all  remembered  ill 
heaven.  Oh,  I  don't  know,  mamma,  what  shall 
I  do?  I  then  endeavored  to  explain  the  way 


YiUS»    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  121 

that  Christ  had  opened  by  his  death,  and  for 
his  sake  our  sins  were  forgiven  if  we  humbly 
repented.  She  afterwards  seemed  deeply  in- 
terested in  divine  things,  often  conversing  with 
her  little  mates  and  urging  them  to  live  good 
and  praying  lives. 

Lebanon,  April,  1850. —  Some  very  interest- 
ing meetings  in  the  north  part  of  the  town, — 
revival  interest  spreading.  Brethren  F.  and 
M.  from  Great  Falls",  came  and  entered  into  the 
work.  Mr.  C.  lets  his  store  to  J.  O.  R.,  a 
young  man  of  talent,  who  apparently  is  a  Jonah 
running  away  from  the  Lord, —  fear  that  he 
will  not  find  at  last  that  he  has  done  what  he 
could,  and  enjoy  the  approving  smiles  of  God. 
A  fear  to  meet  the  cold  criticisms  of  an  unfeel- 
ing world  keeps  him  from  yielding  to  the 
spirit  which  is  in  his  heart,  a  smothered  fire 
prompting  him  to  leave  all  and  be  a  fisher  of 
men.  Yet  a  little  while  and  we  fear  that  the 
last  flickerings  of  that  holy  tire  will  go  out, 
then  how  great  will  that  darkness  be. 

Sept, —  Mr.  C.  has  passed  the  summer  most- 
ly at  home  upon  the  farm ;  health  very  poor, — 
children  sick  most  of  the  summer ;  one  little 
boy  and  husband  very  sick  with  typhoid  fever  ; 
a  babe  also  sick  in  the  cradle  ;  but  little  pros- 
pect of  recovery.  While  I  go  from  couch  to 
couch  of  suffering  and  disease,  I  feel  that  in 


122  LIFE   AND   WRITINGS   OF 

Heaven  is  my  only  helper ;  and  surely  lie  does 
not  forsake  me.  Feel  a  sweet  reliance  upon 
his  promise,  though  I  pass  through  deep  waters 
he  will  not  forsake  me  ;  —  feel  strengthened  in 
body  and  mind  to  meet  the  excessive  demands 
upon  my  strength ;  and  from  whence  but  from 
Thee,  my  Redeemer.  Truly  thou  dost  remem- 
ber me,  and  not  a  hair  shall  fall  without  thy 
notice.  Thy  rod  falls  in  love. 

Dec. —  Mr.  C.  and  the  children  have  been 
brought  up  from  the  brink  of  the  grave  ;  while 
Father  Co  well,  who  was  taken  sick  near  the 
same  time,  has  finished  his  days  of  extreme 
suffering  and  found  his  everlasting  rest.  He 
desired  the  time  to  come  when  he  should  be 
released ;  selected  the  text  and  hymns,  and 
Rev.  E.  Place  to  preach  at  his  funeral. 

Feb.  1851.— Visit  Wolfeborough. 

March. —  Feel  a  deep  labor  and  anxiety  of 
mind, —  believe  God's  presence  is  in  the  place 
to  convict  and  save.  Go  about  my  house  with 
a  mournful  heaviness  on  my  heart  while  the 
multitudes,  moving  on  to  ruin,  are  continually 
before  my  mind  ;  —  distress  sometimes  so  great 
I  can  scarcely  relish  food.  Am  sure  it  is  the 
approach  of  the  Almighty  in  judgment  or  mercy. 
Why  fear  to  pen  these  sensations  since  they 
seem  so  evident  to  my  own  heart ! 

. —  The  school  has  commenced  ;   some 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   tt,    CO  WELL.  123 

are  heard  to  say  they  hope  there  will  be  a 
revival  as  heretofore. 

April. —  An  interest  is  manifest,  several  are 
anxious,  others  are  indulging  a  hope  in  the 
mercies  of  God  and  seem  firm,  decided  soldiers 
of  the  cross.  How  gracious  art  thou,  O  Lord, 
how  manifold  are  thy  works.  How  great  Is  thy 
loving  kindness  to  the  children  of  men.  How 
sublime  and  divinely  fair  thy  footsteps  as  thou 
comest  to  walk  in  thy  garden,  to  water  and 
revive  its  drooping  plants,  The  lilies  send 
forth  sweet  perfume  at  thy  approach  and  the 
tender  herb  looks  up  and  is  glad.  Dreamed  I 
went  out  from  my  door,  a  light  snow  lay  on 
the  earth.  A  few  paces  from  the  door  found  a 
lamb  lying  on  the  ground,  its  fleece  filled  with 
snow,  its  limbs  cold  and  stiff.  I  attempted 
to  raise  it  up  and  help  it  to  walk ;  it  sank 
down  again  entirely  numb,  and  made  no  effort, 
but  seemed  ready  to  perish.  I  took  it  in  my 
arms  and  brought  it  near  a  larire  fire  that  was 

o  f 

blaxing  on  the  hearth  which  I  had  just  left. 
Oh,  who  is  that  lamb  entirely  chilled  by  the 
cold  snows  of  worldly  influence  and  pride,  and 
sunk  down  to  die  in  full  sight  of  the  door  of 
Zion's  tents?  Strengthen  that  which  remains, 
O  Lord  ;  for  it  is  ready  to  die. 

M<uf. —  Visited  a  Mrs.  Charlotte  Corson  who 
is  very  near  death  ;  attempted  to  pray  with  her 


124  LIFE  AND  WRITINGS  OF 


lead  her  thoughts  to  Christ,  her  only  sup- 
port. She  had  long  indulged  a  secret  hope 
that  she  should  rest  in  heaven  when  her  suffer- 
ings were  ended  here.  On  a  second  call,  she 
again  requested  me  to  pray.  Heaven  seemed 
near  while  bowed  before  God's  throne  by  the 
pillow  of  the  dying  woman,  I  have  a  peculiar 
satisfaction  in  being  around  the  couch  of  sick- 
ness and  administering  to  the  wants  of  the 
suffering,  both  spiritually  and  to  nature's  re- 
quirements. It  is  in  doing  good  to  others  that 
the  highest  good  of  life  is  found.  She  died  a 
few  days  after, 

June.  —  Attended  the  Wolfeborough  Quar- 
terly Meeting  —  very  rainy  —  returned  home, 
nnd  visited  by  request  a  young  man,  C.  G.,  a 
young  student,  who  was  very  sick  at  hi*  board- 
ing place,—  bowed  and  asked  the  blessing  of 
God  upon  him.  Remarked  to  rny  husband  that 
Doubtis  Falls  was  constantly  before  my  mind  ; 
it  seemed  to  me  that  God  was  to  work  there 
and  they  needed  him  ;  he  thought  so  much  of 
it  that  he  decided  to  go.  He  had  been  chosen 
to  town  office,  and  other  business  so  occupied 
his  attention  that  he  concluded  he  must  give  it 
up.  I  began  to  feel  that  God's  will  was  not 
done  and  that  Mr.  C.  was  being  ensnared  by 
tin-  world,  ut  a  time  when  he  should  labor  for 
God.  I  began  to  a*k  the  Lord  to  send  some 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  125 

one  after  him  and  take  him  away  from  his  busi- 
ness ;  such  was  the  distress  of  my  mind.  We 
had  heard  nothing  from  Doubtis  Falls  in  North 
Berwick  for  several  months,  then  why  an  inter- 
est? What  were  our  feelings  within  a  few  days 
of  those  exercises  of  mind,  when  a  Brother 
Neal  from  that  place  came  after  Mr.  Co  well  to 
go  and  labor  there.  A  revival  had  commenced 
and  help  was  greatly  needed.  He  went  with 
Brother  Neal,  spent  a  week,  and  sent  for  me  to 
come  and  assist  in  the  great  work  of  saving 
souls  from  everlasting  perdition.  I  went  agree- 
able to  request,  and  spent  the  Sabbath.  A 
solemn  and  impressive  scene, —  much  opposition 
from  those  without,  but  the  converts  were  stead- 
fast and  bold  in  the  Lord  ;  enjoyed  the  meet- 
ings, felt  the  divine  presence  most  evidently, 
sat  beneath  his  shadow  with  great  delight. 
The  meeting  seemed  productive  of  much  good, 
several  were  made  new  by  being  washed  in  the 
blood  of  Christ,  henceforth,  as  we  trust,  to 
be  followers  of  that  which  is  good.  How  incal- 
culable is  the  good  resulting  from  the  influence 
of  one  faithful  convert;  it  never  ceases. 

August,  26th.  — West  Lebanon  Academy 
commenced  its  fall  term.  We  have  three 
boarders,  young  ladies  ;  one  of  them  very  gay,  S. 
W.  ;  feel  much  interest  for  her  spiritual  welfare, 
converse  long  and  often  with  her ;  sometimes 


126  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

answered  only  by  tears  ;  pray  with  and  for  her. 
She  finally  acknowledges  herself  a  backslider 
from  God,  and  commences  again  a  life  of 
prayer.  We  hope  when  she  is  exposed  to  the 
allurements  of  the  deceitful  world  she  may  still 
cling  to  Him  who  alone  is  able  to  save  the 
young  heart  from  sorrows  in  store  for  the  un- 
wary votaries  of  pleasures.  Oh,  how  many  are 
treading  the  dangerous  paths  in  fruitless  search, 
amjd  the  world's  vanities,  for  rest  to  the  mind  ; 
the  empty  void,  that  continually  thirsts  for  the 
divine  and  holy,  the  congenial  and  only  element 
that  will  satisfy  the  eternal  cravings. 

Surely,  the  soul  of  such  infinite  capacities  can 
never  be  satisfied  with  finite,  transient  vanities. 
Thou,  O  God,  art  my  chief  joy,  the  spring  of 
my  delight.  In  Thee  is  all  fulness,  and  none 
ever  sought  thee  in  vain. 

/September. —  Learn  that  Sarah,  the  only 
daughter  of  Capt.  C.,  whose  wife  deceased  in 
June,  was  very  sick ;  did  not  see  herself,  un- 
willing to  die.  So  pressed  with  domestic  care 
it  seemed  impracticable  to  visit  her,  but  my  de- 
sires were  urgent  to  God  for  the  descent  of  his 
spirit  upon  her  heart.  During  the  day  follow- 
ing, felt  a  burdened  anxiety  for  her  and  a 
great  desire  to  see  and  converse  with  her ;  but 
could  not  be  freed  from  my  duties  at  home.  In 
the  evening  she  sent  for  me  to  visit  her.  Shall 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  127 

I  here  chronicle  the  silent  secrets  of  my  heart, 
perhaps  never  to  meet  the  eye  of  mortals? 
Why,  then,  fear  to  write  the  whole  desires  of 
my  heart,  and  evident  condescension  of  God  to 
lead  me  in  a  way  I  knew  not?  I  felt  so  anxious 
for  the  sick  girl  and  so  doubtful  if  I  could  be 
more  successful  than  others  who  had  labored 
with  her,  that  I  made  prayer  unto  God  if  He 
saw  tit  to  aid  or  lead  me  to  any  means  that 
would  reach  the  heart,  to  move  upon  her  mind 
to  send  for  me,  I  should  therefore  believe  her 
mind  open  to  receive  what  I  would  say  and  my 
labors  might  not  be  in  vain.  I  hastened  to  her 
side,  though  weary  from  excessive  cares  and 
toils  of  the  day,  but  mentally  praying  God  to 
speak  through  this  unworthy  child,  a  willing, 
waiting  maid  at  his  feet.  I  enquired  why  she 
sent  for  me?  She  replied,  to  pray  with  me. 
She  seemed  willing  to  be  led  in  any  way  in 
which  she  thought  she  might  find  the  Saviour. 
After  the  many  who  came  in  (as  she  supposed) 
to  see  her  die,  had  dispersed,  I  was  alone  with  her 
and  another  watcher,  and  her  father.  I  re- 
marked to  him,  a  moral,  upright  man,  that  his 
daughter  had  requested  me  to  pray,  but  I  felt 
exceeding  humble,  and  desired  him  to  lead  in 
the  devotions  of  his  own  altar.  He  replied  he 
had  never  prayed  with  his  family,  and  did  not 
feel  fit  for  such  a  solemn  duty.  I  most  humbly 


128  LIFE    AND   WRITINGS    OF 

and  in  full  overwhelming  view  of  my  weakness 
and  the  value  of  the  few  moments  now  remain- 
ing for  such  a  duty  to  be  blessed  to  a  dying 
daughter,  entreated  him.  not  to  withhold  this 
spiritual  blessing,  the  prayers  and  blessings  of 
a  father  from  her  for  whom  he  could  make  any 
earthly  sacrifice.  He  was  indeed  the  kindest 
of  fathers.  I  urged  the  peculiar  state  of  apathy 
of  mind  of  which  she  complained  as  calling  for 
such  a  special  means  of  moving  her  heart.  He 
bent  over  her  with  a  trembling  voice,  and  asked 
if  she  wanted  to  hear  her  poor  neglectful  father 
pray.  After  urging  her  to  give  herself  to  God, 
he  bowed  and  humbly  committed  her  to  God, 
with  his  own  heart.  After  following  him  in 
prayer,  I  asked  her  to  utter  her  own  desires  to 
the  Lord.  She  then  in  low,  solemn,  broken 
strains  of  confession  and  penitence  implored  the 
pardoning  mercy  of  Heaven.  Exhausted,  she 
sank  into  a  calm  sleep.  The  family  retired, 
and  Miss  C.  and  myself  watched  through  the 
night.  She  was  much  revived  in  the  morning, 
both  in  body  and  mind.  In  a  few  days  she  sank 
down  and  was  no  more.  But  her  mind  before 
death  grew  stronger  in  hope  of  mercy  through 
Christ,  and  expressed  a  willingness  to  depart. 
Thy  mercy,  O  Lord,  eudureth  forever.  Thou 
art  full  of  compassion.  My  soul  is  filled  with 
thy  love.  All  the  day  do  I  dwell  on  the  won- 
ders of  Thy  ways  toward  the  children  of  men. 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  129 

1852. —  Spent  the  winter  at  Lebanon.  A 
long,  severe,  cold  winter,  very  much  increasing 
the  brochial  difficulties  to  which  for  several 
years  I  have  been  subject.  Some  days  scarcely 
able  to  leave  the  room  ;  violent  pain  in  the  side, 
and  a  great  pressure  in  the  respiratory  part  of 
the  system.  One  day  rode  out  with  Mrs.  G. 
to  visit  the  sick ;  took  with  me  some  jellies  to 
nourish  and  comfort  them ;  called  on  a  Mr. 
Knox,  who  came  from  extensive  wandering 
over  the  world  with  his  heart  far  from  God,  to 
spend  a  little  time  with  his  father.  While  in 
the  woods  he  fell  from  a  tree,  broke  his  back 
bone,  and  was  soon  expecting  to  be  in  eternity. 
Through  the  mercy  of  God  he  so  far  recovered 
as  to  have  time  and  strength  to  repent  and  give 
his  heart  to  God.  He  seemed  to  rest  MI  hope. 
From  thence  we  called  on  a  very  feeble  woman 
in  the  most  humble  walks  in  life,  "with  scarcely 
any  comforts  ;  but  she  rejoiced  in  bright  pros- 
pects of  riches  in  heaven  that  are  durable  and 
of  joys  that  are  unending.  After  singing  and 
prayer,  during  which  she  shouted  for  jo\-,  we 
left  for  a  scene  more  distressing.  We  entered 
a  house  hardly  worthy  the  name  ;  a  poor  shelter 
from  the  fury  of  the  storm.  *As  might  be  sup- 
posed the  husband  and  father  loved  his  base  ap- 
petite better  than  his  forlorn  wife  and  sick  and 
dying  babes,  One,  six  years  old,  a  helpless 


130  LIFE   AND   WRITINGS   OF 

idiotic  sufferer,  was  at  rest  in  death,  lain  away 
in  an  old  broken  chest ;  another,  some  years 
older,  was  ever  wringing  and  jumping  with  a 
nervous  affection,  the  sad  result  of  the  viola- 
tion of  nature's  laws  by  the  parents,  lay  helpless, 
pale,  and  comfortless  in  a  pillowless  cradle. 
Others,  too  small  to  feel  their  wretchedness, 
looked  wistful  and  kind  ;  while  I  caressed  them, 
my  tears  of  maternal  tenderness  pressed  to  my 
eyes  as  I  remembered  my  own  comfortable  home 
and  warmly  clad  babes.  Thou  that  hearest 
the  ravens  and  rememberest  the  shorn  lamb, 
wilt  thou  remember  these?  Surely  the  mon- 
ster intemperance  has  robbed  here  more  than 
gold  —  has  taken  health,  reason  and  life  away. 
We  bowed  in  this  scene  of  woe,  and  tearfully 
committed  them  to  God.  This  abode  of  want 
has  proved  an  outlet  to  the  pent  yearnings  of 
woman's  generous  heart,  to  dry  the  tears  of 
woe,  and  make  the  wretched  smile.  The  sew- 
ing circle  have  assisted  them,  clothed  the  chil- 
dren, and  sent  them  to  the  Sabbath-school. 
Returned  home  with  an  approving  conscience 
resting  like  a  quiet  dove  in  my  bosom.  The 
most  we  can  get  out  of  life  is  usefulness. 

March,  April  and  May. —  Spring  term  of  the 
school  brought  us  several  boarders,  young  la- 
dies. I  often  felt  a  deep  solicitude  as  I  ob- 
served the  frail  fortifications  that  defended  them 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  '131 

from  the  suares  of  a  vile  world.  Endeavored 
to  throw  around  all  the  influence  in  my  power 
that  would  guide  them  in  the  ways  of  virtue 
and  truth.  Oh,  how  much  I  long  for  the  moral 
and  intellectual  elevation,  of  woman.  The  mass 
of  young  female  minds  now  rushing  on  after  the 
phantoms  of  pleasure,  fashion  and  folly,  sure  to 
end  in  misery,  is  painful ;  and  were  it  once  set 
toward  high  and  holy  aims  would  promise  more 
for  our  nation's  preservation  and  peace  than  all 
its  navy,  wealth  or  science.  Woman,  suscepti- 
ble of  the  finest  and  most  ennobling  feelings, 
generous  impulses  and  highest  aims — capable 
of  su,ch  strong  purpose  and  long  endurance  and 
persevering  eftbrt,  unequaled  by  the  lords  of 
creation,  that  she  should  spend  all  her  noble 
energies  in  gathering  for  her  person  mere  but- 
terfly gaudiness,  to  win  the  vile  flatteries  of  the 
selfish  and  deceitful,  or  drag  out  a  life  of  listless 
ennui,  content  with  being  the  mere  toy  of  the 
sou  of  fortune,  is  far,  far  from  the  design  for 
which  such  a  being  was  given  to  earth. 

July,  1852. —  Mr.  C.  engages  to  preach  at 
Berwick  every  Sabbath ;  but  by  reason  of  the 
sickness  of  his  nephew  his  time  during  the  week 
is  occupied  at  Great  Falls,  in  a  store.  Most 
of  the  time  I  am  alone  with  my  children  and  my 
heavenly  Father, —  my  daughter  is  sick  with 
acute  bronchitis.  AVithin  a  few  weeks  I  have 


132  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

prepared  a  few  short  articles  for  the  Press  :  two 
for  the  Cabinet,  New  York  ;  four  for  the  Myrtle  ; 
three  for  the  Mother's  Assistant,  Boston  ;  and  an 
address  on  Female  Benevolent  Organization,  of 
some  twenty-two  pages,  to  be  read  before  the 
female  part  of  community. 

August,  23rd. —  Mr.  C.  has  gone  to  Berwick  ; 
a  revival  interest  is  manifest  there  and  in  other 
places ;  the  divine  showers  are  descending, 
while  here  reigns  a  melancholy  drought,  both 
spiritual  and  temporal.  My  daughter  is  still 
sick.  I  have  stayed  away  from  the  house  of 
God  two  Sabbaths  on  her  account.  She  mani- 
fests a  meekness  and  patience  altogether  un- 
locked for  in  one  so  young.  She  says  she  loves 
God  and  would  like  to  go  and  live  with  him. 
There  is  a  divine  joy  in  gathering  around  me 
my  children  morning  and  evening  and  leading 
them  to  the  throne  of  grace,  one  after  another 
joining  in  worship  to  the  Great  Spirit.  Rev. 
O.  B.  Cheney  has  preached  his  farewell  sermon 
and  left  for  Augusta,  and  Eev.  Benjamin  Web- 
ber is  settled  over  the  divided  and  contentious 
people.  Who  shall  be  able  to  bid  the  troubled 
waters  to  be  hushed?  Text  first  Sabbath  — 
Peace,  be  still.  Rev.  B.  Webber  and  wife  oc- 
cupy a  tenement  in  our  house.  My  little  Hosea 
is  very  feeble,  strong  symptoms  of  consump- 
tion, ripening  early  for  the  reaper's  scythe. 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  133 

January,  1853. —  The  cause  of  God  seems  to 
prosper  under  the  direction  of  llev.  W.  Two 
worthy  young  men  converted,  and  the  divine 
spirit  seems  hovering  gently  over  the  com- 
panies gathered  for  worship.  Mr.  C.  is  enjoy- 
ing a  great  revival  in  Berwick,  baptizes  several 
and  adds  them  to  the  church. 

Spring  term  of  the  school  commences,  have 
two  young  ladies  to  board,  neither  of  whom 
have  professed  religion.  They  become  very 
thoughtful,  commence  lives  of  prayer  and  in- 
dulge a  hope  in  Christ.  Meetings  continue 
interesting,  while  the  powers  of  darkness  seem 
moving  and  writhing  as  though  they  would 
crush  the  good  seed  being  sown.  Some,  not 
able  to  bear  the  truth,  have  seized  on  some 
imaginary  difference  between  the  pastor  and 
people,  and  attempted  to  destroy  and  crush  all 
good ;  yet  the  Lord  will  reign,  and  who  shall 
abide  the  day  of  His  power. 

August,  25th. —  Addition  to  our  family  by 
the  birth  of  a  daughter.  Our  little  Hosea  seems 
again  failing, —  has  passed  many  nights  in  cold 
sweats  and  a  hard  cough  which  resists  all  medi- 
cine and  care. 

Sept.  1853. —  Have  had  a  severe  influenza  — 
almost  too  much  for  nature  to  sustain,  yet  the 
Lord  has  brought  me  through.  Our  sickly  boy 
seems  very  active,  his  intellect  much  more 


134  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS   OF 

developed  than  the  other  children.  I  look  on 
his  red  cheek,  pale  cold  forehead  and  panting 
breath,  where  seem  unwelcome  presages  of 
an  early  grave.  He  seeins  very  desirous  to 
learn  of  Heaven,  often  asking  many  questions 
about  the  employment  and  situation  of  those  in 
heaven ;  once  pressed  his  enquiries  of  the 
angels  and  not  being  satisfied  with  all  the  im- 
formation  I  could  give,  was  about  to  cry  with 
disappointment,  I  said  to  him,  When  you  go  to 
heaven  you  will  know  all  about  them. 

One  morning  he  awoke,  with  a  happy  coun- 
tenance, exclaiming,  "  O  ma  !  I  have  had  such 
a  pretty  dream  !  so  pretty  !  so  pretty  ! "  "What 
was  it,  sonny?"  "Oh,  I  dreamed  that  you  and 
I  went  somewhere  away,  away  off."  "How?" 
I  asked.  "I  don't  know  how  we  went, —  rode, 
I  guess.  Oh,  such  a  pretty  place !  It  was 
like, —  Oh,  it  was  like, —  I  can't  tell,  ma;  it 
was  not  like  a  house,  but  it  was  so  pretty  ! " 
Thus  he  went  on,  in  vain  attempts  to  bring  into 
language  the  beautiful  picture  that  glowed  in 
his  mind.  Some  days  after,  he  referred  to  it 
again,  as  if  the  bright  vision  was  still  with  him, 
and  said,  "  O  ma,  don't  you  know  night  before 
yesterday  what  a  pretty  dream  I  had, —  how 
we  went  somewhere  ?  "  "  Where  ?  "  I  asked  do 
you  think  it  was.  "Oh,  I  don't  know,  but 
Heaven,  I  guess  ;  but  it  was  so  pretty  !  " 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   B.    COWELL.  135 

One  evening,  several  met  for  social  prayer 
meeting  at  our  house,  and  I  supposed  my  little 
Hosea  slept.  During  the  very  interesting  ex- 
ercises the  words  were  sung, 

"  I  am  bound  for  the  land  of  Canaan  ; 

Canaan,  it  is  my  happy  home, — 
I  am  bound  for  the  land  of  Canaan," 

At  the  close  he  exclaimed,  "What  a  good 
meeting  we  have  had  !  I  did  love  that  singing, 
and  I  sing  too."  The  words  were  his  delight 
many  mouths  after.  Often  he  said  to  those 
around  him,  "I  am  bound  for  Canaan,  and 
wish  I  was  there." 

December  brings  us   the   sad  event  so   Ion": 

o  o 

expected  and  dreaded  :  My  sweet,  my  active 
little  Hosea,  has  spread  his  spirit  wings  and 
flown  away  to  the  bosom  of  God  above.  His 
hard  cough,  his  rattling  murmuring  breath,  no 
more  shall  break  the  midnight  silence.  Sweet 
boy,  I  know  thou  art  an  angel  now,  thou  wast 
such  as  Jesus  loved  and  called  to  his  arms  on 
earth.  Oh,  I  see  thee  in  his  bosom  nestling 
fondly  now.  A  new,  a  blessed  relation  we 
have  entered  into  since  thou  hast  gone  up  from 
our  circle,  and  borne  with  thee  a  golden  cord 
that  links  us 'with  heaven.  It  can  never  be 
broken,  we  can  never  forget  to  love  thee,  and 
look  up  where  thou  hast  gone  and  feel  thee 


136  LIFE   AND   WRITINGS   OF 

drawing  us  by  the  golden  chain  thou  hast 
twined  around  thy  own  pure  heart,  while  it 
extends  around  us  all.  A  short  time  before 
his  departure  to  the  land  of  rest,  I  saw  him 
drawing  his  hands  up,  his  frame  quivering,  his 
eyes  turned  upward,  1  thought  it  was  death. 
He  clasped  his  hands,  raised  them  up,  turned 
his  eyes  toward  heaven  with  such  an  expression 
of  holy  peace  and  calm  resignation,  I  felt  it  rude 
to  weep.  It  seemed  the  very  door  of  Heaven 
was  opened  and  its  glory  was  shining  on  his 
quiet  face.  Oh,  shall  I  ever  forget  that  scene  ! 
no  never,  till  we  meet  in  Heaven. 

Dec.  4dh. —  We  stood  over  his  little  bed  and 
saw  the  last  fall  of  the  chin,  the  feeble  gasp  of 
life ;  yet  there  was  light  in  our  dwelling  amid 
the  awful  gloom  of  death.  Oh,  how  rich  the 
consolations  of  the  divine  word,  how  sweet  to 
feel,  as  my  dear,  darling  boy  plunged  into  the 
boundless  eternity,  forever  beyond  our  sight 
and  reach,  that  we  have  done  what  we  could. 
The  sweet  consciousness  of  duty  done  is  far 
more  valuable  than  wealth  or  fame  to  the  be- 
reaved and  bleeding  heart.  He  has  gone,  dear 
boy,  but  not  to  a  land  of  which  he  has  never 
heard.  I  remember  with  pleasant  emotions  the 
hours  of  prayer,  when  his  little  head  would 
come  quietly  under  my  arm  to  bow  beside  me 
as  I  knelt  at  prayer ;  and  then  I  think  how 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  137 

pleased  he  has  been  when  we  taught  him  some 
simple  words  of  prayer.  I  think  of  the  winter 
evenings  when  alone  with  the  children  I  have 
told  them  of  the  better  land,  of  the  blessed 
Saviour  who  loves  and  watches  over  the  good 
and  pure  ;  I  love  to  think  of  the  bright  dreams 
that  have  followed  these  evening  conversations 
while  they  were  in  bed  and  fell  asleep  with 
these  last  thoughts  on  good  and  holy  things. 
Oh,  for  grace  and  perseverance  to  labor  more 
diligently  for  those  that  remain, —  to  build  a 
bulwark  about  their  hearts  that  will  defend  and 
secure  them  against  the  fearful  and  corrupting 
influences  that  are  in  the  world,  when  I  am 
gone  home.  I  often  lift  up  a  grateful  heart 
when  I  see  already  some  of  the  divine  influences 
effecting  their  hearts.  It  is  grace,  all  of  grace. 
The  utmost  that  watchful,  unwearied  love  can 
do,  cannot  change  the  heart,  it  is  God  alone. 
This  I  can  do  :  I  will  labor  not  to  lay  up  gar- 
ments and  costly  furniture,  not  wealth  for  their 
future  enjoyment,  but  to  lay  up  prayers  on  the 
altar  of  God  that  they  may  hereafter  fall  in 
blessings,  protecting  and  guiding  influences  on 
their  hearts  when  those  who  love  them  are  gone. 

Mrs.  Webber's  health  fails.  She  has  wan- 
dered far  from  her  native  land  and  her  lot  east 
with  us,  we  hope  for  good. 

April,  2lst,  1854.— Mrs.  S.  Webber,  wife 


138  LIFE    AND   WRITINGS    OF 

of  Rev.  B.  Webber,  breathes  out  her  life  in 
prayer  and  goes  to  her  rest.  She  has  suffered 
extremely, —  has  no  relatives  near  but  her  hus- 
band. I  have  tried  to  be  to  her  a  daughter,  a 
sister  and  friend.  I  now  feel  a  sweet  approv- 
ing conscience  of  duty  done  to  the  stranger,  the 
sick  and  suffering.  t  Her  early  life  was  spent  in 
London,  England,  and  was  one  of  marked  use- 
fulness in  bringing  hundreds  to  the  Saviour, 
who  will  rejoice  to  meet  her  in  heaven. 

Sept,  8th. —  My  darling  babe,  my  sweet  little 
Sissy  lies  calmly  yielding  her  innocent  spirit 
into  the  hands  of  God.  Oh,  rny  adored  Father 
in  Heaven,  thou  in  love  didst  lend  her  to  us, 
in  love  and  infinite  wisdom,  thou  art  taking 
her  away ;  let  my  weary  spirit,  my  dissolving 
heart,  lean  upon  thy  bosom  and  rest.  Yes, 
thou  doest  it,  thy  name  I  love.  Thy  ways  are 
right  and  just.  Sanctify  my  soul  and  make  me 
what  thou  designest  by  thus  again  thrusting  me 
into  thy  crucible  of  affliction  ;  I  will  love  thee 
and  will  draw  nearer  thee  ;  I  will  silently  bow 
before  thee,  and  own' thy  sovereign  claim  to  all 
the  work  of  thy  hands,  if  thou  wilt  let  me  again 
enfold  my  angel  babe  in  Heaven.  O  Father, 
thou  wilt  bear  up  my  soul  and  let  me  not  sink, 
and  bring  me  also  into  thy  presence,  whither 
my  babes  are  going  one  by  one.  How  ardently 
my  soul  longs  to  be  possessed  of  thy  nature, 


MRS,    CHRISTIANA   B.    COWELL.  139 

purity  and  truth,  and  accomplish  all  thou  hast 
designed  by  giving  me  existence  on  earth. 
Thy  will  forever  be  done.  A  few  hours  after 
writing  I  saw  my  sweet  babe  breathe  her  last, 
and  her  little  quiet  face  settle  into  the  cold 
rigidity  of  death,  no  more  to  smile  her  wel- 
come to  her  mother  as  she  has  so  often  done ; 
no  more  open  those  mild  eyes  in  loving  gaze 
responsive  to  her  mother's  love.  How  tender 
are  the  cords  that  were  around  thee,  my  babe  ; 
with  what  delicious  tenderness  have  I  pressed 
thee  to  my  bosom,  and  felt  thee  like  angel's 
company  because  thou  wast  so  innocent,  so 
winningly  sweet,  so  unlike  the  artful  disguise 
of  the  world  around.  Now,  my  Father  in 
Heaven  has  called  thee,  and  perhaps  has  sent 
the  happy  spirit  of  that  little  brother,  already 
there,  to  come  and  bear  thee  company  far  up  the 
celestial  pathway  to  the  better  land.  Thou  art 
gone  from  a  mother's  yearning  heart,  and  my 
spirit  goes  after  thee  and  is  almost  ready  to  say, 
now,  Lord,  let  thy  handmaid  depart  and  be  at 
rest.  Those  who  most  needed  a  mother's  love 
and  care  are  taken  to  their  rest,  and  why  should 
I  longer  stay.  Is  not  all  that  has  been  ap- 
pointed, now  accomplished?  Have  I  not  at- 
tempted to  discharge  all  my  obligations  in 
life?  Feeble  and  unworthy  efforts,  and  many 
put  forth  in  sincerity  and  kindness,  perhaps 


140  LIFE    AND   WRITINGS    OF 

misconstrued  ;  yet  with  Thee,  my  Father,  I 
leave  them,  feeling-  if  thus  far  I  have  lived  in 
vain,  I  have  not  lived  idle  ;  but  have  failed 
through  weakness,  of  the  object  to  which  I 
aimed. 

Sept,  19th. —  Days  have  passed  since  my 
sweet  babe  has  lain  in  the  silent  ground.  I  go 
about  my  domestic  duties  in  moaning,  sighing 
over  the  melancholy  void  that  death  has  made. 
There  sits  her  empty  cradle,  no  more  to  lull  the 
weary  pain  of  my  darling  babe.  I  shall  never 
see  her  sleeping  there  again.  Her  clothes,  the 
little  chair,  the  toys,  all  bring  to  my  heart  a 
pang  of  yearning  sorrow;  yet  I  can  bear  all 
tliis,  for  the  Lord  has  done  it,  and  I  know  He 
cannot  err.  I  weep,  I  woo  the  pensive  grief  as 
my  chosen  companion  ;  I  love  to  sit  alone  and 
indulge  the  luxury  of  a  mother's  tender  sorrows, 
and  let  my  spirit  wander  far  away  from  the 
delusive  and  painful  scenes  of  earth,  to  the 
bright  home  my  loved  ones  have  entered.  I 
see  them  in  the  bosom  of  Jesus.  He  can  care 
for  them  far  better  than  I.  How  keenly  I  feel 
I  am  insufficient  for  the  great  and  solemn  duties 
of  a  parent,  to  be  intrusted  with  immortal  souls 
that  are  to  receive  from  me  the  impress  of  good 
or  evil,  never  to  be  effaced.  Can  I,  Oh,  can  I 
discharge  what  yet  remains  to  me  of  such  stu- 
pendous obligations,  unless  I  have  help  from 
above  I 


CllUlSTlAXA  B.    COWELL.  141 


28///-.—  AYhere  shall  my  sorrowing  heart  find 
rest?  It  is  full  of  heaviness.  I  know  not 
•where  to  turn  ;  yet  this  one  idea  seems  to  rise 
;il>ove  all  others,  and  hold  constant  dominion  in 
my  heart,  —  it  is  that  of  being  soon  discharged 
from  earth,  and  going  to  rest  above.  The  ob- 
jects for  which  I  have  heretofore  lived  seem 
fading  away,  and  my  eye  fixes  an  eager,  stead- 
fast gaze  on  the  hill-tops  of  the  blissful  shore. 
In  the  awful  grandeur  of  the  contemplations, 
what  inexpressible  emotions  sweep  through  my 
soul  I  To  be  with  God,  the  great  unapproach- 
able by  mortals,  —  to  gaze  with  eye  undimmed 
upon  His  majestic  countenance,  to  live  upon 
His  smiles  and  forever  enjoy  His  love,  and  then 
to  find,  in  blissful  wanderings  over  its  elysian 
fields,  those  dear,  those  loved  babes,  and  again 
enfold  them  to  this  now  bleeding  bosom.  AVho 
can  describe  the  tenderness  of  that  grief  when 
a  sweet  child,  who  has  nestled  so  fondly,  so 
confidingly  in  my  arms  for  twelve  months,  is 
removed  and  laid  awa}r  in  the  silent  earth  ! 
Painful  emotions  press  for  utterance,  but  cannot 
find  it.  Yet  I  would  not  for  one  moment  call 
back  that  dear  one  from  her  happy  home,  much 
as  I  would  love  to  look  once  more  into  those 
mild,  winning  eyes,  and  press  that  tiny  form. 
No,  she  was  dear,  but  is  no  longer  mine.  O 
my  Father  in  heaven,  I  implore  Thee  to  speak 


142  LIFE  AND  WRITINGS  OF 

to  the  billows  of  grief  that  toss  and  foam  in  my 
heart,  for  they  well  nigh  overwhelm  me  !  bid 
them  be  hushed,  and  own  Thy  power.  What 
could  bear  me  up  in  this  day  of  my  weakness 
and  affliction,  if  Thy  hand  did  not  hold  me? 
My  grief  is  doubled,  that  she  who  was  in  my 
arms  when  my  dear  boy  waa  torn  away,  to 
gather  up  the  bleeding  tendrils  and  twine  them 
around  her  sweet,  holy  spirit,  has  now  broken 
them  all  afresh.  Was  it  not  idolatry  in  the 
sight  of  the  Great,  the  only  worthy  to  be  adored, 
when  I  looked  with  such  bewildering  bliss  into 
her  deep  spiritual  eyes,  gazed  on  her  fair  and 
beautiful  face,  and  felt  that  in  herself  was  hap- 
piness? I  have  sinned,  O  my  Father,  in  Thy 
sight,  and  was  well-deserving  Thy  chastening 
rod.  Now,  I  deeply  desire  and  truly  pray  Thee 
to  bind  my  heart  to  Thy  throne,  and  sanctify  all 
my  afflictions.  Suiter  me  not  to  sin  in  the 
strong  desire  that  possesses  me  to  break  these 
clogs  of  clay  and  soar  away  from  earth.  I  fear 
1  am  too  weary  of  its  toils  and  sorrows  ;  too 
anxious  for  the  harmony  and  love  of  heaven. 
Truly,  never  had  all  the  things  of  this  life  been 
so  lost  in  the  glorious  contemplations  of  the 
spirit  world, —  never  did  the  mystic  vail  so 
nearly  roll  up,  and  disclose  the  overwhelming 
grandeur  and  beauty  of  the  dwelling-place  of 
the  abode  of  angels,  the  place  for  the 


Mi:S.    CimiSTfANA   B.    COWELL.  143 

good,  the  home  of  the  pure,  the  rest  of  the 
weary.  Each  breeze  that  sweeps  over  the  hills 
seems  fraught  with  life,  to  bear  up  the  wing  of 
viewless  spirits  who  float  around  me  and  invite 
me  and  draw  me  away.  Had  I  the  wings  of  a 
dove,  I  would  fly  away  and  be  at  rest. 

A  beautiful  bird  came  in  and  lighted  on  my 
window.  I  took  it  in  my  hand  while  it  fluttered 
and  escaped  and  bruised  itself  against  the  glass 
in  its  eager  attempts  to  cleave  the  air  and  be 
gone.  I  raised  the  window,  held  the  little  im- 
patient prisoner  far  out  in  the  air,  and  set  him 
free.  What  joy  as  it  spread  its  wings,  mounted 
higher  and  higher  and  soared  away  and  away, 
joying  as  he  went  to  its  own  native  clime  and 
kindred  dear.  True  emblem  of  the  strivings 
of  my  own  imprisoned  spirit ;  my  heart  leaped 
and  mounted  in  unison  with  the  bird,  for  it 
foreshadowed  to  me  as  I  stood  gazing  after  it, 
the  happy  souls  released  and  buoyant,  mounting 
up  to  God  in  its  own  native  realm. 

There  my  best  friends  and  kindred  dwell, 
And  there  I  long  to  be. 

October,  3rd. —  Retired  at  night  Avith  great 
heaviness  of  heart, —  felt  there  was  no  balm  for 
the  bleeding  wound  in  my  aJlVctions.  Gentle 
sleep  at  last  came  over  me,  and  my  spirit  was 
caught  up  to  Heaven  where  God  resides  and 


144  LIFE   AND   WHITINGS   OF 

viewed  glories  unutterable .  A  vision  of  gran- 
deur  burst  upon  me  as  never  did  before.  Oh, 
that  holy,  happy  place,  no  words  can  bring  to 
mortal  conception.  During  my  pilgrimage,  so 
far  on  earth,  I  never  before  was  led  up  to  -see 
its  glorious  entrance.  By  faith's  dim  taper  I 
made  my  way  along  the  pilgrim  road  with  here 
and  there  a  rich  repast,  but  never  before  with 
such  clear  transporting  gaze,  beheld  the  New 
Jerusalem,  the  glorious  City  of  our  God. 

Blest  seats,  through  rude  and  stormy  scenes, 
I  onward  press  to  you. 

Surely  in  the  day  of  darkness  my  God  is  near 
me,  from  the  depths  of  anguish  he  lifts  me  up, 
and  makes  nic  to  understand  his  living  kindness. 

Hi1  takes  my  soul  ere  I'm  awarv, 
And  shows  me  where  his  glories  are, 

He  leads  me  in  a  way  I  know  not ;  surely, 
goodness  and  mercy  shall  follow  me  all  the  days 
of  my  life. 

25th. —  I  feel  my  spirit  settling  into  quiet 
trust  and  sometimes  moved  with  strong  desire 
to  exemplify  to  the  world  the  true  graces  of  the 
Christian  faith.  If  by  continued  affliction  only 
I  leave  behind  reliable  evidence  of  the  power 
of  grace  to  sustain,  let  it  como. 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  145 

November,  I5tk. —  Left  the  house  that  has 
been  1113'  home  from  my  marriage,  and  the  scene 
of  many  sorrows  ;  the  birth  of  four  children, 
and  the  death  of  two,  and  removed  into  a  new 
tenement  near  by.  Old  home,  good-bye  — 
many  sad  and  tender  memories  will  linger  long 
around  thy  spacious  apartments.  The  death 
scenes  of  those  dearer  to  me  than  life,  will  be 
ever  rising  iirst  with  thoughts  of  thee.  Let  me 
wander  where  I  may,  never  can  pass  away  from 
memory  or  cease  to  cast  over  me,  that  shadow 
which  claims  all  earthly  joys  and  leads  the  mind 
to  look  above  to  the  lights  that  have  passed  away 
from  earth  and  fixed  themselves,  like  beaming 

'  O 

stars,  in  the  midnight  sky,  beaming  sweetly 
over  the  way.  I  look  long  and  wistfully  up- 
ward until  I  almost  forget  the  things  of  earth, 
and  feel  my  spirit  mingling  in  delicious  affinity 
with  spirits  of  a  high  and  holy  order. 

April)  18oo. —  Long  time  have  I  neglected 
to  commune  with  my  journal  or  make,  as  here- 
tofore here  and  there,  a  track  of  the  inner 
progress  or  spirit's  pilgrimage  upon  its  page. 
A  great  and  glorious  display  has  been  witnessed 
of  the  power  and  goodness  of  God,  since  this 
year  commenced.  This  people  contentious, 
envious,  and  tilled  with  all  evil  devices  and  evil 
speaking,  have  been  left  to  themselves  without 
a  spiritual  teacher  for  some  months.  No  meet- 


14()  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

ings  of  worship  on  the  Sabbath.  One  weekly 
class  meeting  that  commenced  with  eleven  who 
agreed  to  labor  for  union  and  pray  for  this 
people ;  Mr.  C.  leader.  I  was  requested  to 
take  charge  of  a  Bible  class,  which  met  at  our 
house.  Likewise  agreed  to  have  the  sewing 
circle  meet  evenings,  On  the  first  meeting 
there  were  fifty-seven  present, —  members  of 
two  families  who  had  been  at  variance  joined 
hands  and  agreed  to  remember  their  strife  no 
more.  Union,  love  and  happiness  seemed  to 
prevail,  and  interest  greatly  increase  in  re- 
ligious meetings.  Mr.  C.  appoints  them  more 
frequently, —  crowds  begin  to  gather, —  the  cold 
and  backsliders  in  heart  to  return  confessing  to 
God  and  his  people ;  and  one  young  lady, 
Doreas  G.,  has  found  Christ.  Sabbath  meet- 
ings being  holden  ;  deep  solemnity  seemed  rest- 
ing like  a  cloud  filled  with  rain  over  the  place. 
Rev.  E.  Place  came  and  preached  two  Sab- 
baths, filled  with  the  spirit.  Mr.  C.  was  re- 
quested to  preach  in  the  Academy,  as  the  meet- 
ing house  was  desolate  and  unfit  for  service. 
The  proprietors,  who  had  been  full  of  conten- 
tion, met  and  unanimously  agreed  to  repair  their 
house  of  worship.  The  sewing  circle  met  often 
during  the  winter  to  raise  funds  for  that  object. 
A  deep  work  of  grace  seems  going  on  in  the 
hearts  and  an  entire  new  aspect  has  come  over 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   B.    COWELL.  147 

the  community.  Converts  multiply  until  they 
number  more  than  twenty  new  born  souls  within 
half  a  mile  around.  Mr.  C.  has  labored  with 
the  brethren  in  the  place,  with  an  occasional 
visit  from  other  ministers. 

The  humble  class  numbers  fifty-one,  and  the 
place  has  become  too  straight  for  them  ;  and 
there  is  scarcely  a  place  to  be  found  that 
can  convene  the  crowds  that  come  to  the  place 
of  worship.  Many  have  been  reclaimed  from  a 
dormant,  useless  state,  -and  still  many  are  under 
deep  conviction,  with  a  solemn  sense  of  their 
lost  condition  without  God  and  hope.  Our 
earnest  prayer  is,  that  God  will  still  move 
and  exert  His  Almighty  power  in  saving  lost 
men  in  this  place. 

April,  "25th. —  The  great  work  still  goes  on 
in  this  place  ;  have  had  very  welcome  visits 
from  Revs.  Edgerly,  Rand,  Webber  and  Tap- 
pan  ;  each  preached  to  the  people.  Enjoyed  a 
liberal  donation  visit  and  had  a  very  pleasant 
interview.  May  Heaven's  blessing  fall  in  return 
on  the  cheerful  giver.  They  do  not  wish  them 
called  gifts,  but  a  remuneration  as  an  acknowl- 
edgement of  the  labors  of  Mr.  C,  in  this  time 
of  need  and  destitution.  Others  recently  have 
found  the  Saviour.  How  divinely  fair,  how 
richly  glorious,  how  supremely  grand  thy  go- 
ings forth,  O  Lord,  in  this  place.  Almost  we 


J48  LIFU  AND  WRITINGS   Of 

can  say  like  Simeon,  Let  us  now  depart  we  have 
seen  thy  salvation  ;  our  souls  are  trusting  in 
Thee.  Thou  art  my  soul's  adored  Redeemer, 
her  everlasting  trust.  How  firm  our  confidence 
in  the  word  of  God  in  his  willingness  to  hear 
and  answer  prayer,  and  his  over-ruling  power 
and  faithfulness  in  marking  out  the  best  path 
for  those  that  trust  in  Him,  Perhaps  nothing 
but  the  chastening  rod  that  He  has  laid  on  na 
could  have  so  prepared  us  for  the  great  work 
in  which  He  has  thrust  us  for  a  few  months 
past.  Nothing  else  so  completely  weaned  me 
from  the  world,  and  all  vain,  selfish  motives, 
and  fixed  my  mjnd  and  directed  my  aims  to  the 
soul's  all  important  destinies.  Never  did  I  feel 
more  entirely  free  from  a  worldly  or  self  inter- 
est ;  in  whatever  I  do  I  feel  the  one  great  object 
moving  deep  in  my  soul,  to  labor  for  the  Glory 
and  honor  of  God  and  the  good  of  sou  la.  With 
this  happy  consciousness,  I  look  into  the  future 
with  most  peaceful  trust,  let  it  unfold  what  it 
may  for  me,  all  will  be  well.  "  Great  peace 
have  they  that  love  thy  law  and  nothing  shall 
offend  them,"  Mrs,  D.,  a  neighbor,  has  been 
suddenly  called  into  eternity.  It  is  the  voice 
of  God  calling  us  all  to  be  ready.  I  often  feel 
should  my  exit  be  thus  early,  I  would  have  it 
written  on  my  coffin,  rejoice  that  I  am  with 
God.  It  seems  so  delightful  to  come  into  the 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  149 

open  presence  of  Him  I  have  so  ardently  loved, 
so  often  communed  with,  so  long  trusted  in, 
and  feel  that  I  shall,  and  grieve  Him  no  more, 
but  be  forever  clothed  in  his  righteousness  and 
dwell  in  his  visible  glory. 

Filled  with  delight,  my  raptured  sonl 

Would  here  no  longer  stay, 
Should  Jordan's  waves  around  me  roll, 

Fearless  I'd  launch  away. 

Yet  not  in  myself  can  I  see  or  feel  the  least 
good  but  in  Christ.  I  sometimes  feel  absorbed 
and  forget  that  I  exist,  other  than  in  His  all- 
ravishing  fullness  and  glory.  What  am  I  that 
I  should  find  acceptance  with  such  a  being  of 
holiness  and  power  !  Surely  I  am  as  dust,  yet 
He  lifts  me  up  and  makes  me  understand  the 
exceeding  riches  of  His  goodness. 

G  O 

Sept.  1855. —  More  than  one  year  has  passed 
since  I  lay  my  sweet  babe  down  to  sleep  in  the 
grave.  It  has  quickly  fled.  How  insufficient 
I  felt  to  bear  on  life's  way  a  year  longer ;  yet 
my  Keeper  was  at  hand,  and  has  not  suffered 
me  to  faint ;  while  another  billow  now  darkens 
my  way,  fraught  with  many  sorrows  and  per- 
haps death.  I  have  only  to  wait  still  on  God. 
How  many  tokens  of  love  I  have  had  from  my 
dear  children.  How  soothing  has  been  its 
influence  over  my  spirit  amid  the  ills  of  life ; 


150  LIFE    AND   WRITINGS    OF 

and  now  how  inexpressibly  fervent  is  my 
prayer  that  they  shun  all  evil,  grow  up  in  the 
fear  and  wisdom  of  God,  be  a  great  honor  to 
their  Heavenly  and  earthly  father,  and  meet  me 
at  last  in  heaven.  No  sin  can  enter  there  ;  for 
without  holiness  no  man  can  see  the  Lord. 
May  they  hate  sin,  love  each  other,  read  the 
Bible  much,  and  pray  every  day  that  God  may 
keep  them  and  at  last  take  them  to  rest.  And 
remember  that  a  mother  has  often  prayed  for 
them,  and  perhaps  looks  down  from  Heaven  to 
watch  the  path  of  those  she  loved  on  earth. 
My  spirit  daily  leans  on  the  fatherly  bosom  of 
my  God  who  has  so  often  proved  Himself  the 
Faithful  and  True.  The  ever-present  help  in 
trouble  cannot  fail  me  now.  No  !  I  firmly  hold 
Him  by  my  spirit's  trust,  and  I  daily  and 
hourly  feel  sweet  tokens  of  his  love  distilling 
like  refreshing  dew  around  my  head.  I  awake 
from  pleasant  dreams  at  night  and  feel  His 
loving  presence  is  with  me  and  guards  my  mid- 
night hours  ;  and  when  I  think  of  again  going 
among  those  who  I  have  often  heard  praise  and 
extol  the  name  of  Christ,  a  warm  desire  springs 
up  in  me  to  be  able  to  make  His  glorious  char- 
acter more  known  and  imitated.  I  would  live 
for  one  object  above  all  others,  to  reflect  in  my 
life  the  excellencies  of  the  true  faith. 
A  precious  female  prayer  meeting  has  been 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   B.    CO  WELL.  151 

held  ill  our  house  for  some  weeks  past,  in 
which  by  kind  arrangements,  I  have  had  the 
rich  privilege  of  mingling  in  social  worship. 
During  the  long  time  passed  in  making  ar- 
rangements in  the  church,  to  unite  two  in  one, 
which  has  long  been  divided,  and  settling  a 
pastor,  the  mind  was  becoming  diverted  from 
the  great  revival  interest,  so  long  pervading  our 
community.  To  maintain  the  earnest  zeal  for 
the  continued  progress  of  the  good  work,  the 
sisters  have  met  and  prayed,  and  not  in  vain. 
The  work  has  again  revived,  seven  have  started 
for  heaven,  fifteen  have  been  baptised,  and  a 
hallowed  influence  pervades  the  place.  Rev. 
F.  Moulton  has  been  engaged  to  become  pastor 
and  has  already  commenced  his  labor  among  us. 
My  worthy  father,  who  has  purchased  a  farm, 
and  lives  within  a  few  rods  of  us,  has  been 
taken  suddenly  sick,  and  for  a  few  hours  seemed 
near  his  end,  from  a  violent  hemorrhage.  The 
near  prospect  of  the  loss  of  such  a  kind  parent 
nearly  overwhelmed  me  ;  yet  he  lives  and  may 
continue  to  be  a  blessing  to  his  family  and  the 
world.  Few  ever  had  such  a  father  as  I  have. 
How  great  have  been  the  blessings  and  mercies 
that  have  fallen  on  this  unworthy  head  ! 

November,  1856. — More  than  a  year  has  been 
numbered  with  those  before  the  flood  since  my 
pen  has  been  turned  to  this  record.  Another 


152  LIFE   AND   WEITINGS   OF 

darling  son  has  been  given  us,  and  a  very  choice 
treasure  he  has  been  to  us,  often  as  a  balm  to  a 
bleeding  wound,  have  we  pressed  his  little 
chubby  form  to  our  bosom ;  yet  with  all  the 
strong  affection  with  which  we  hold  him,  we 
trust  we  have  consecrated  him  to  God.  And 
often  as  he  lay  sleeping  on  my  breast,  my 
prayer  has  ascended  to  his  God  and  my  God, 
that  he  be  sanctified  through  grace  and  faith- 
fully serve  and  honor  God  on  earth  and  praise 
him  in  Heaven. 

My  father  has  been  restored  and  is  again  in 
the  wide  world  praclaiming  salvation  to  lost 
men.  The  church  has  seemed  low  in  spiritual 
life,  yet  we  long  most  ardently  for  the  light  of 
life  again  to  dawn  upon  us.  But  to  retrace  the 
path  of  my  own  inner  life.  I  dwell  with  satis- 
faction upon  the  bright  spots  in  the  retrospect 
where  the  Divine  favor  burst  through  the  clouds 
of  sorrow  in  which  I  was  enveloped,  leaving  a 
bright  halo,  lingering  still,  to  mark  the  spot 
and  to  shed  forever  a  beacon  ray  along  life's 
path.  A  few  weeks  after  the  birth  of  our  son, 
my  health  and  strength  was  again  prostrated  by 
a  severe  abscess  and  fever.  For  several  days 
and  nights  I  could  obtain  no  sleep ;  the  pain  of 
the  abscess  and  the  raging  of  the  fever  brought 
me  to  a  very  low  point,  the  last  extreme  that 
reason  could  hold  her  sway  ;  quivering,  tremb- 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  153 

ling  as  on  a  pivot  it  hung  ;  on  that  mysterious 
point,  between  consciousness  and  the  dreading 
vagueries,  and  the  uncoutrolable  spirit  burst 
beyond  the  curb  of  reason.  When  at  last  the 
abscess  was  lanced  and  the  pain  subsided,  I 
sought  again  to  lose  myself  in  sleep  ;  but  it  fled 
from  me.  I  began  to  say  to  myself,  these  many 
days  and  nights  I  have  sought  rest  and  strength 
in  sleep,  and  so  great  has  been  my  pain  and 
weakness,  I  have  scarcely  lifted  one  thought  to 
Heaven,  but  have  seemed  to  forget  there  was 
One  who  has  said,  "Call  upon  me  in  trouble 
and  I  will  hear."  Now  I  will  cast  my  mind  on 
God,  and  let  it  rest  and  give  up  all  anxiety  for 
the  body  ;  for  he  will  take  care  of  that  also.  I 
was  soon  lost  to  all  earthly  consciousness.  A 
Being  of  life  was  hovering  down  before  me, — 
a  countenance  which  no  language  can  ever 
describe.  No  !  It  must  live  and  glow  upon  the 
page  of  my  heart's  vision  in  beauty  too  exquisite 
ever  to  be  painted ;  clouds  were  round  about 
him,  but  his  face  was  not  hid  in  it ;  there  was 
an  expression  of  majesty  so  awful  as  if  the 
universe  would  dart  away  in  dismay  at  His 
power.  Yet  blending  with  this  grandeur  of 
authority  and  power,  there  was  an  expression 
of  love  so  benignant,  so  serenely  beautiful, 
that  seemed  to  invite  the  humblest  of  all  exist- 
encies  to  come  near  and  call  Him  Father.  As 


154  LIFE    AND   WHITINGS    OF 

I  gazed  iii  calm  delight  upon  the  glorious 
vision,  I  beheld  in  his  hand  a  deep  urn  filled 
with  a  rich  liquid  of  the  consistency  of  oil  and 
the  color  of  wine,  which  he  seemed  just  ready 
to  pour  down,  I  knew  not  where.  Just  then 
came  thrilling  through  my  mind  with  a  force  I 
never  before  felt  "  I  will  pour  in  the  wine  and 
the  oil  of  consolation."  Then  again  came  the 
words,  "I  sat  under  his  shadow  with  great 
delight  and  his  fruit  was  sweet  to  my  taste." 
As  a  child  by  its  resemblance  establishes  its 
paternity,  so  did  these  words  and  the  Divine 
image  before  my  mind,  seem  of  one  nature,  all 
Divine.  At  this  moment  came  such  an  intuitive 
certainty  and  perfectness  of  the  divine  origin  of 
the  Bible,  as  was  beyond  the  power  of  argu- 
ment. When  the  glorious  view  faded  away, 
there  remained  in  my  heart  such  a  feeling,  such 
an  indescribable  luxury  of  love  and  trust  in  an 
Omnipotent  Love,  as  can  never  be  forgotten, 
and  seems  to  me  can  never  be  surpassed  (only 
in  quantity  not  in  nature,)  when  I  shall  be 
united  to  the  Infinite  in  Heaven  and  be  sur- 
rounded with  the  atmosphere  of  perfect  love. 
How  vast  the  power;  how  broad,  high  and 
unfathomably  deep  the  love  of  Him  who  cares 
for  us.  When  shall  we  understand  Him.  M  Lo, 
He  is  past  finding  out." 

Plunged  in  the  Godhead's  deepest  sea, 
I'm  lost  in  His  immensity. 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  155 

Thus  in  one  of  life's  extremities  was  I  per- 
mitted to  enjoy  one  of  the  richest  experiences 
of  my  Christian  pilgrimage. 


LOOK  UP,  LOOK  UP  TO  HEAVEN. 

Voyager  o'er  life's  stormy  sea, 

By  fitful  tempests  driven, 
When  sorrow's  waves  seeni  whelming  thee, 

Look  up,  look  up  to  Heaven. 

Laborer  on  some  burning  plain, 

Thy  life  for  heathen  given, 
When  sinking  under  toil  and  pain, 

Look  up,  look  up  to  Heaven. 

Soldier  on  life's  battle-field, 

Where  foes  have  well  nigh  beaten, 

Once  more  ere  thou  the  contest  yield, 
Look  up,  look  up  to  Heaven. 

Watchman  who  the  vineyard's  soil 
Would  guard  from  sin's  vile  leaven, 

When  fruitless  seems  thy  weary  toil, 
Look  up,  look  up  to  Heaven. 

Sinner  low  with  anguish  bowed, 

Who  pleads  to  be  forgiven, 
When  dark  despair  is  gathering  round, 

Look  up,  look  up  to  Heaven. 

Mourner  bending  o'er  the  tomb, 

To  weep  love's  tendrils  riven, 
Amid  death's  solemn,  silent  gloom, 

Look  up,  look  up  to  Heaven. 


156  LIFE   AND    WRITINGS    OF 

Mother,  who  long  and  weary  years, 
For  others'  weal  hast  striven, 

When  thankless  words  requite  thy  tears. 
Look  up,  look  up  to  Heaven. 

Bondman,  whose  heart  with  anguish  bleeds, 

Inflicted  seven  times  seven, 
When  life's  last  faintest  light  recedes, 

Look  up,  look  up  to  Heaven. 

Hear  angels,  whose  enchanting  notes 

As  soft  as  summer's  even, 
On  every  coming  breeze  it  floats, 

Whispering  Heaven,  sweet  Heaven. 


INSCRIBED  TO  THE  REV.  MOSES  QUINBY  AND  WIFE, 

In  Memory  of  their  Daughter,  who  died  aged  seven  years. 

I  am  going  home,  said  the  dying  child, 

I'm  going  to  be  an  angel  now  ; 
And  the  little  sufferer  meekly  smiled, 

And  a  glow  of  light  lit  up  her  brow. 

Papa,  you've  held  us  on  your  knee, 

And  told  us  much  of  Jesus'  love, 
How  little  ones  like  sis  and  me 

Were  living  in  his  home  above. 

And  when,  dear  father,  you  have  told 

Of  that  rich  city,  bright  and  fair, 
With  gates  of  pearl  and  streets  of  gold, 

Oh,  how  I've  wished  I  could  be  there. 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  157 

And  now,  papa,  I'm  going  home  ; 

The  shining  angels  I  shall  see  ; 
ThejT're  near  me  now,  they're  saying,  come, 

Listen  !    I'm  sure  they're  calling  me. 

I  know  you'll  weep  when  I  am  gone, 

I  love  you  all,  yet  cannot  stay  ; 
You  know  I  shall  not  go  alone, 

This  angel  band  will  lead  the  way. 

Mother,  you  know  I've  loved  the  flowers, 
The  singing  birds,  and  cool  soft  breeze ; 

When  sick  and  weak  through  summer  hours, 
I've  pined  to  play  'iieath  shady  trees.  » 

And  now  one  simple  thing  I  crave, 

When  I  am  buried  with  the  dead, 
Come  plant  a  tree  above  my  grave, 

To  spread  its  branches  o'er  my  head. 

The  spot  I  know  you  won't  forget, 

But  as  it  grows  from  year  to  year, 
Beneath  its  shade  you'll  come  and  sit, 

And  drop  perhaps  for  me  a  tear. 

The  little  form  grew  stiff  and  still, 

And  fainter,  shorter  grew  each  breath, 

One  feeble  moan  and  all  was  still, 
It  was  the  solemn  hush  of  death. 


PART  SECOND. 

The  Saviour  comes,  but  there's  a  cloud 
The  light  of  His  loved  face  to  hide, 

His  hands  are  strange,  for  there's  a  shroud 
To  vail  the  marks  of  the  Crucified. 


158  LIFE   AND   WRITINGS   OF 

He,  His  voice  is  as  one  unknown, 

The  stricken  hearts  grow  faint  with  fear  ; 

For  ne'er  before  had  the  holy  one 
In  robes  of  death  approached  so  near. 

The  bosom  heaves  with  strange  wild  pain, 
The  earth  seems  hid  beneath  a  pall, 

While  surging  waves  like  the  storm-beat  main, 
With  whelming  flood  on  the  spirit  fall. 

The  angel  one  comes  nearer  still, 

The  dark-gloved  hand  has  touched  the  heart 
Its  chords  with  deeper  anguish  thrill, 

Its  tendrils  bleeding,  quivering,  part. 

The  conflict's  past  —  the  severed  ties 
Have  loosed  their  mighty  hold, 

And  lo  I  before  thy  weeping  eyes, 
The  Saviour's  arms  thy  child  enfold. 

Then,  Oh,  what  majesty  and  grace, 
Compassion,  love  and  tenderness 

Are  beaming  from  that  glorious  face, 
As  words  divine,  the  mourner  bless, 

The  vision  rising  now  from  sight 

In  distant  glory  fades  away, 
As  stars  that  cheer  the  long  dark  night 

Are  lost  at  last  in  brightening  day, 

Down  the  skies  there  steals  a  tone, 
Soft  breathings  of  the  father's  love, 

"  Still  nearer,  nearer  to  my  throne, 
Thy  treasure  and  thy  heart  above." 

The  wound  must  bleed,  the  tears  must  fall 
The  sweetest,  tenderest  ties  are  riven, 

Yet  there's  a  hope  that  glows  through  all 
You'll  find  your  angel  child  in  Heaven. 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  159 

THY  ANGEL  SISTER. 
Inscribed  to  Miss  Nancie  H.  Stevens,  Alton,  N.  H. 

Hear  ye  not  the  low  sound  of  her  hovering  wing, 
Blending  softly  the  while  with  a  dear  spirit  tone, 

As  thy  sister,  thy  angel,  stoops  earthward,  to  bring 
Viewless  balm  to  thy  bosom,  now  bleeding  and  lone  ? 

"  I  am  here,"  she  is  saying,  "  I'm  near  to  thee  still, 

I  am  come  from  a  region  of  unclouded  day, 
And  its  flowers  I  bring,  at  the  Holy  One's  will, 

To  bestrew  here  and  there  thy  lone  pilgrimage  way. 

"  I  am  watching  the  shadows  that  over  thee  steal, 
As  ye  muse  o'er  the  past,  and  the  dear  buried  dead, 

And  I  hasten  to  quiet  the  pang  that  ye  feel, 
And  to  kiss  off  the  sisterly  tear  that  ye  shed." 

Yes,  she  blesses  thee  still,  though  never  on  earth 
May'st  drink  from  her  eye  love's  hallowed  light, 

Never  more  hear  her  voice,  round  the  quiet  home  hearth, 
Nor  thy  kind  vigils  keep  by  her  couch,  the  long  night. 

She's  blessing  thee  still,  and  her  angelic  hand 

Wakes  to  music  celestial,  thy  sad  spirit-lyre, 
And  a  light  streameth  down  from  a  glorious  land, 

And  a  voice  ever  calls,  "  Come  up  higher,  come  up  higher ! " 
West  Lebanon,  Me.  C.  B.  COWELL. 


160  LIFE   AND   WHITINGS   OF 


COMPOSED  FOB   MISSES  COOK  AND   STEVENS,  TWO 
LADY  BOARDERS. 


How  sweet  and  tender  is  the  tie 
That  binds  us  heart  to  heart, 
While  few  sweet  days  have  fluttered  by 
And  brings  the  mournful  hour  to  part. 
And  will  thy  thoughts  in  kindness  dwell 
On  her  who  pens  these  lines  in  love, 
Who  sighs  to  speak  the  word  farewell, 
And  prays  for  union  sweet  above  ? 
Good-bye,  a  kind  and  long  good-bye, 
The  words  send  back  a  tender  pain  ; 
For  who  can  say  that  yon  and  I 
Shall  ever  meet  on  earth  again. 
Yet  fare  thee  well,  and  may  our  hearts 
In  humble  trust  to  God  be  given, 
That  when  life's  latest  ray  departs, 
We  find  a  union  sweet  in  Heaven. 


THE  SILENT  LESSON. 

BY   CRADLE-SIDE. 

IT  was  the  quiet,  meditative  hour  of  the  Sab- 
bath twilight  that  Mrs.  Lynde,  a  mute  mother, 
was  sitting  alone  in  her  pleasant  room.  The 
holy  Bible  was  before  her.  She  had  been  read- 
ing and  musing  on  its  priceless  treasures,  when 
little  Carrie,  her  second  daughter,  stole  softly 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  161 

to  her  mother's  side.  A  glow  of  innocent 
beauty  was  on  her  face  as  she  turned  a  beseech- 
ing and  trusting  look  to  her  mother's  doting 
gaze.  What  would  my  sweet  daughter  have? 
was  the  language  of  those  eyes,  but  never  of  the 
lips.  Immediately  the  hands  of  little  Carrie 
were  raised,  and  pointing  to  the  Bible,  her 
head,  her  heart,  then  upward  to  God,  give  this 
silent  utterance  to  the  wish  that  her  mother 
would  take  her  on  her  lap  as  she  had  often 
done,  and  read  and  talk  to  her  of  God.  Al- 
though but  six  years  of  age,  Carrie  had  evinced 
great  love  and  unusual  understanding  of  the 
wonderful  things  of  God.  The  child  of  pious 
parents,  though  both  deaf  mutes,  the  amount 
of  religious  instruction  Carrie  had  received 
through  their  silent  language,  was  blessed  in  the 
early  maturing  of  the  Christian  graces  in  her 
almost  baby  heart.  It  had  long  seemed  her 
highest  joy  to  be  engaged  in  singing  holy  songs 
or  talking  of  heaven  and  its  blessed  company. 
On  this  occasion  her  mother  again  took  her  upon 
her  lap  and  began  reading  to  her  the  twenty- 
third  Psalm  —  "The  Lord  is  my  Shepherd,  I 
shall  not  want." 

With  a  look  of  increasing  satisfaction  the 
child  watched  the  moving  of  the  mother's  hand, 
and  the  varied  expression  of  her  face,  now  and 
then  smiling  assent,  as  she  caught  the  sublime 


162  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

thoughts  that  leaped  from  the  waving  hands, 
until  she  came  to  the  fourth  verse  —  "Yea, 
though  I  walk  through  the  valley  and  shadow 
of  death,"  &c.  Here  tears  glistened  in  the  eyes 
of  Carrie,  and  raising  her  hands  with  an  invol- 
untary shudder,  she  made  signs  that  she  was 
afraid.  For  a  moment  she  covered  her  face 
with  her  hands  and  wept.  Then  without  any 
further  suggestion  from  her  mother,  she  slid 
down  from  her  mother's  lap,  and  dropped  on 
her  knees  in  prayer.  The  scene  grew  intensely 
solemn.  The  mother,  though  forever  deaf  to 
human  or  earthly  sound,  seemed  to  hear  a  voice 
within.  And  while  her  own  heart  was  swaying 
in  sympathy  with  the  child-sorrow  that  seemed 
too  deep  to  hope  or  ask  for  any  earthly  aid,  a 
voice  seemed  saying  to  the  soul,  "Be  still  and 
know  that  I  am  God."  So  awful  yet  sweet  did 
the  Divine  presence  seem  that  she  dared  not 
interfere  with  the  grief  she  so  unexpectedly  had 
moved.  A  few  moments  the  little  suppliant, 
in  words  that  have  no  record  on  earth,  poured 
out  her  prayer,  then  arose  with  smiles  of  joy 
beaming  through  her  tears,  and  said, — 

"I  am  not  afraid  now,  for  Jesus  loves  me  and 
I  love  Jesus." 

She  then  asked  to  be  taken  in  her  mother's 
arms  again,  while  she  repeated  the  Psalm.  The 
mother  again  read  and  explained,  but  feeling  all 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   B.    COWELL.  163 

the  while  that  she  was  more  the  taught  than 
the  teacher,  by  this  singular  lesson  of  ready 
trust  and  faith  in  this  child  heart. 

The  usual  vivacity  of  Carrie  returned,  and 
after  this  event  she  seemed  even  more  spiritual 
and  buoyant  than  before.  She  was  often  heard 
by  the  children  (all  of  whom  could  hear)  repeat- 
ing or  singing  the  above  Psalm,  and  sometimes 
reading  it  in  the  Bible. 

The  dreary  chill  that  for  a  moment  lay  upon 
her  happy  spirit,  was  but  the  shadow  of  the  fast 
coming  event.  She  was  taken  very  sick  in  a 
few  days  from  that  interesting  Sabbath  evening. 
When  her  parents  manifested  any  alarm,  she 
would  very  earnestly  express  with  her  fevered 
hands  and  face,  that  God  made  her  sick,  and 
she  loved  God  —  that  angels  were  with  her,  and 
she  longed  to  put  her  arms  around  them.  So 
bright  and  extraordinary  were  her  visions,  that 
her  friends  thought  her  mind  wandering,  until 
various  test  questions  proved  her  truly  con- 
scious, but  filled  with  the  Divine  glory.  She 
seemed  to  have  a  view  of  her  upper  home,  and 
tried  to  give  expression  to  her  delight  till  her 
hands  were  stiff  and  cold  in  death.  Such  was 
the  signal  blessing  upon  the  faithful  labors  of 
pious  though  mute  parents. 


164  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 


LEAF  FKOM  A  MOTHER'S  JOUKNAL.. 

BY    CRADLE-SIDE. 

It  is  when  I  turn  to  the  mother's  letters  in  the 

"Free  Talks  with  Our  Friends,"  that  I  feel  I  am 

indeed  reading  a  "Mothers'   Journal,"  "where 

page  after  page  is  presented,  marked  with  the 

impress  of  the  inner  life.     Cloistered   in   the 

profound  of  home,  shut  in  from  the  sight  and 

sound  of  the  outside  world,  of  what  should  the 

mother   write,   but   of  the   workings   of  these 

secret  springs  of  the  moral  being?     Yet  how 

few  and  faint   the   voices  that  ever  come  up 

from  this   obscure    deep !      How   many   noble 

deeds  and  holy  aspirations  here  have  birth  and 

death,    and    leave   no   record   but   in   heaven ! 

And  notes  of  woe,   waked  by  some   ruthless 

sweep    across  the  exquisite  spirit   harp,    echo 

round  these  walls  and  die  unheard.     It  is  here, 

to  the   retired  and  often  desponding  mother, 

that  the  Journal  comes,  with  its  words  of  love 

and  cheer,   and  heart  answers  to  heart  in  the 

free  talk  of  editors  and  mothers.     Here  I  would 

drop  a  simple  leaf,  a  reminiscence,  which  may 

savor  much  of  egotism,  yet  may  interest  from 

its   connection  with  one  by  all  esteemed  —  I 

should  add  if  I  may  but  escape  the  mouth  of 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   B.    COWELL, 


the    oblivious    "  waste    basket  "•—  which  yawns 
between  us. 

It  was  one  of  the  sunny  days  of  July  bust, 
that  a  little  missive  came  from  our  good  editor, 
Mrs.  H.,  saying  that  she  had  "arrived  in  the 
country,  and  was  too  feeble  to  visit,  but  wished 
to  see  her  early  friend  once  more  in  the  flesh." 
Within  a  day's  ride  and  on  the  spot  dear  to  us 
both  by  countless  tender  associations,  could  I 
resist?  When  weak  lungs  and  home  cares 
chimed  in  remonstrance,  the  stirrings  of  early 
friendship  for  once  prevailed,  "I  can  be 
housekeeper,"  said  the  oldest  of  the  hopefuls. 
"I  would  like  to  be  driver  for  mother,"  said  the 
second.  And  the  little  ones?  "I  can  take 
care  of  them,"  continues  the  first.  Well, 
dumpling  cheeks  and  baby  lips  press  their 
mother's,  and  the  good-byes  are  shouted  as  we 
ride  away.  We  "journeyed  and  were  sad»" 
Is  it  ever  thus,  that  a  cherished  pensive  shade 
blends  with  all  that  is  tender  in  our  nature? 
The  varied  songs  of  nature,  all  blended  in  one 
low,  dull  hum,  and  the  grand  scenery  of  the 
Granite  State  seems  like  a  vailed  statue.  I 
longed  to  rouse  and  feel,  as  once,  its  hallowed 
inspiration.  Ay,  the  bow  long  bent  springs 
not  back  at  once.  The  "  solemn  footed  hours  " 
tramped  slowly  on. 

There  it  is  at  last,   the   dear   familiar  spot, 


!()()  LIFE   AND   WRITINGS   OF 

once  my  own  paternal  home,  but  passed  to 
strangers  now.  The  shade  and  fruit  trees  that 
I  used  to  watch  when  tender  saplings,  bowing 
to  the  wind,  how  changed  !  There  are  the  tall 
elms  that  droop  their  long  branches  over  my 
mother's  grave.  Stop -here,  sonny,  I  must 
stand  on  that  dear  spot  once  more.  Mother, 
thou  hast  long  had  rest.  Thy  toils  and  cares 
now  are  mine.  We  shall  meet  soon.  Life's 
stern  lessons  are  making  their  impress  on  thy 
child.  Precious  dust,  early  home,  a  tear  to 
thy  memory. 

A  little  farther  on,  and  almost  hid  by  thick 
foliage,  is  the  early  home  of  my  friend.  There 
she  has  stolen  away  from  city  toils  to  drink  the 
mountain  air  and  coax  back  her  waning  strength. 
Now  I  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  white  balcony  on 
which  we  walked  at  summer  twilight  and  sung 
to  the  echo  of  the  hills.  What  a  rush  of  tender 
memories  !  what  a  strange  thrill  quivers  over 
the  heart  chords !  —  Shall  we  indeed  meet 
again?  Will  she,  (forgive  the  thought)  be  the 
same  warm-hearted  Carrie  of  other  years?  I 
had  never  seen  her  as  Mrs.  H.  I  had  not  long 
to  query.  Hand  grasped  in  hand,  with  stead- 
fast gaze  we  stood. 

"Is  it  C ? "  she  said  at  last. 

"  Only  her  shadow,"  was  replied. 

Another    silent,    motionless    gaze.       What, 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   B.    COWELL.  1(57 

tears  I  but  they  would  come.  Was  it  rude, 
was  it  weak?  We  saw,  indeed,  the  mask  that 
time  with  its  care-lines  had  wrought  out,  but 
there  was  "  the  face  behind  the  mask,"  the  heart 
beneath — warm,  fresh,  gushing  with  pure  and 
tender  sympathies  as  in  early  days.  That  was 
untouched  by  wasting  years.  The  electric 
glance  of  eyes  familiar  had  unsealed  those 
hidden  founts,  and  their  upspringing  joys  were 
quick  and  tumultuous.  Would  you  control 
them  ?  Go,  then,  with  rules  of  intonation  to  the 
babbling,  leaping  brook  —  go  beat  a  measure 
for  the  merry  zephyrs  "that  dance  among  the 
trees.  Would  they  not  brook  restraint  as  well  ? 
But  you  smile  at  this  enthusiasm,  and  perhaps 
we  pity  your  want  of  it.  But  those  deep,  deep 
eyes  I  looked  into,  I  see  them  still.  There  lay 
the  volumes  of  the  past  years'  history  —  mater- 
nal, editorial  cares  —  but  stay,  my  pen,  this 
page  must  not  be  unfolded  here.  We  will  not 
tell  you,  mothers,  how  nearly  we  have  seen 
life's  early  dreams  fulfilled,  but  only  add  a 
couplet  that  will  find  response  in  your  own 
weary  hearts  :  — 

"  Choose  of  life's  paths  which  one  you  will, 
'Tis  upward  climbing,  climbing  still." 


1G8  LIFE   AND   WRITINGS   OF 

I  CANNOT  DISTRUST  PROVIDENCE. 

BY  CRADLE-SIDE, 

"No,  brother,"  said  a  minister  to  a  brother 
minister  with  whom  he  was  dining,  "I  cannot 
distrust  Providence,  however  deep  I  may  sink 
into  trouble." 

They  had  been  conversing  on  the  variety  of 
trials  through  which  a  minister's  path  often 
lies,  and  as  they  moved  back  from  the  table, 
the  conversation  became  more  personal  and 
definite.  The  first  speaker  was  an  Englishman, 
and  true  to  the  English  character,  had,  during 
his  acquaintance  with  the  American  family, 
where  he  had  been  stopping,  maintained  a 
general  reserve  in  regard  to  his  personal  his- 
tory. He  was  now  in  deep  affliction,  having 
but  a  few  months  before  buried  a  promising 
and  dutiful  son,  an  officer  in  the  American  navy, 
and  one  on  whom  he  had  hoped  to  lean  in  his 
declining  years.  He  had*  now  just  returned 
from  the  grave  of  his  companion,  alone  —  but 
one  relative  and  few  acquaintances  on  the  vast 
continent  of  America.  The  kind  words  of  his 
friend  ;  the  true  sympathy  he  had  shown  him 
in  his  bereavement,  had  broken  down  the 
reserve  of  his  great  English  heart,  and  he 
began  — 


MRS,    CmUSTlAXA   B,    CO  WELL.  1(3(J 

"  I  have  seen  too  much  of  the  care  of  my 
heavenly  Father  in  my  great  extremity  to  fear 
that  I  shall  be  overwhelmed.  In  early  life  I 
was  comfortably  settled,  with  a  pleasant  home, 
a  good  business,  a  happy  family.  I  was  what 
we  term  in  our  country  a  local  preacher  of  the 
Wesleyau  Methodists,  Such  receive  nothing 
for  preaching,  but  labor  through  the  week  and 
go  out  in  surrounding  districts  on  the  Sabbath 
and  preach  to  a  class  of  people  who  are  not 
uble  to  support  a  minister.  I  had  enjoyed  good 
privileges  of  study,  both  in  theology  and  medi- 
cine. For  my  medical  practice,  as  for  my 
preaching,  I  sought  no  earthly  reward.  At 
this  time  I  became  security  for  a  friend,  and 
through  his  mismanagement,  my  entire  property 
of  some  thousands  was  swept  away  in  one  day. 

"  My  next  move  was  to  hire  a  tenement  in 
the  city  of  London,  where  my  business  would 
be  a  little  more  remunerative.  I  was  hardly 
settled  again  when  my  son  was  taken  sick,  aiid 
unable  to  hire  a  nurse,  I  took  care  of  him  so 
much  that  I  took  the  fever  myself.  Here  again 
our  daily  bread  was  cut  off.  A  physician  was 
called,  to  gratify  my  wife,  yet  having  studied 
medicine  during  a  chaplaincy  in  the  hospital,  to 
which  I  had  been  appointed,  I  told  him  wherein 
I  should  choose  my  own  treatment.  He  was 
one  of  the  higher  class  in  the  city,  who  feel  it 


170  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

popular  to  ridicule  the  humble  Christian  and  his 
Bible.  He  came  in  one  morning  and  found  me 
bolstered  up  in  the  bed,  reading.  'Aha,'  said 
he,  'getting  well  fast.  What  have  you  there?' 
'The  Bible,  sir.'  'Oh,  you  believe  in  the 
Bible  ! ' —  From  this  point  a  protracted  argu- 
ment commenced  with  the  infidel  doctor,  which 
to  the  honor  of  God  I  say  it,  resulted  in  a- 
favorable  opinion  of  Christianity  on  his  part, 
and  a  valuable1  friendship  to  his  humble  patient. 
He  took  my  oldest  son  into  employment,  refused 
all  compensation  for  his  services,  and  I  was 
once  more  earning  our  bread. 

"Yet  trials  were  not  ended.  My  wife  was 
taken  very  sick,  and  I  was  again  nurse  and 
attendant,  until  the  la&t  penny  in  my  possession 
was  spent  for  a  little  milk.  I  was  a  stranger  in 
that  great  Babel  of  the  world,  without  one 
penny,  my  wife  at  the  point  of  death,  and  four 
little  children  dependent  on  me  for  food.  I 
gathered  my  little  ones  as  usual  around  me, 
gave  them  the  last  meal  in  the  house,  read  the 
Bible,  and  committed  them  and  my  poor  wife 
to  God. 

w  Now,  brother,"  said  the  strong  man,  with  a 
slightly  tremulous  voice,  "this  is  a  point  in  my 
history  I  have  seldom  revealed ;  the  world 
would  think  me  romancing,  and  I  should  be 
looked  upon  as  a  lunatic.  Yet  it  lives  in  my 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA  B.    COWELL.  171 

heart  as  one  of  the  tokens  of  God's  faithful 
care,  when  the  world's  friends  have  forgotten 
us. 

ff  The  younger  children  were  sobbing  around 
their  mother,  she  trying  to  comfort  them,  and 
to  commit  them  to  their  heavenly  Father,  as 
well  as  assure  them  that  their  earthly  father 
would  care  for  them.  I  had  prepared  for  her 
the  last  nourishment  I  had,  when  a  loud  rap 
came  at  the  door.  Now  in  London  we  know 
the  character  of  a  caller  by  the  manner  of  their 
knocking.  An  inditferent  business  call  is  an- 
nounced by  one  loud  blow  of  the  knocker. 
But  when  the  rapid  triple  knock  is  heard,  we 
know  a  friend  is  there,  who  wishes  and  must 
come  in.  I  opened  the  door,  when  before  me 
stood  a  lady  dressed  in  splendid  silk,  and  hav- 
ing about  her  every  indication  of  wealth  and 
high  rank,  while  her  face  bore  an  expression  of 
tender,  benign  interest. 

'  'Is  any  one  sick  here?'  she  asked. 
'  Whom  do  you  want  ? '  said  I. 
'Why  I  want  to  know  if  any  one  is  sick,' 
she  asked. 

"If  you  called  to  see  any  one  you  must 
know  who  it  is,'  I  said,  still  evading  the  ques- 
tion, from  mere  amazement  at  the  strangeness, 
of  the  atiair,  for  one  so  much  above  our  rank  to 
call  on  such  an  errand  to  our  humble  door,  at 
such  a  time. 


LIFE  AND  WRITINGS   OF 

"'There  must  be  some  one  sick  here,'  she 
said,  'and  I  feel  that  they  need  my  help.  I 
must  see  them.' 

"  Softened  almost  to  tears  by  what  seemed  to 
me  this  divinely  sent. evangel,  I  said  very  low, 
*  My  poor  wife  is  sick,'  and  led  the  way  to  the 
chamber  where  she  lay.  She  surveyed  the 
room,  walked  around  the  bed,  talked  tenderly 
and  piously  to  my  wife,  and  laying  her  hand  on 
the  head  of  my  little  weeping  boy,  asked  him  if 
he  could  take  a  basket  and  go  home  with  her. 
She  then  walked  to  the  mantel,  lay  a  full  purse 
upon  it,  saying,  '  This  is  for  you,  do  not  fear  to 
use  it.'  What  could  it  all  mean?  The  little 
lad  soon  came  back  laden  with  little  delicacies 
for  his  sick  mother,  The  contents  of  the  purse 
supplied  all  the  wants  of  the  family  during  my 
wife's  sickness.  But  the  sudden  and  myste- 
rious visitor  could  nowhere  be  found,  and  to 
this  day  I  have  never  been  able  to  learn  from 
whom*  this  timely  assistance  came.  I  can  only 
say  the  Lord  has  done  it,  and  how  can  I  dis- 
trust him  ? 

"  But  His  care  did  not  cease  here,  and  when 
her  body  was  arrayed  for  the  coffin,  the  last  of 
the  purse  was  exhausted.  The  expense  of 
burying  in  London  is  heavy,  yet  I  had  not  a 
penny  to  meet  it.  A  lady  in  the  house  had 
done  all  she  could,  and  I  had  gone  alone  into 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  173 

the  room  where  my  poor  wife  lay  unconscious 
of  the  difficulty  that  had  come  upon  me.  Again 
I  committed  my  care  to  Him  who  had  been  my 
relief  in  time  of  trouble.  Again  a  friendly  rap 
at  the  door,  and  an  old  well-tried  brother  in 
Christ  was  there. 

: '  1  heard  you  were  in  trouble,'  he  said.  I 
led  him  to  the  silent  room.  '  Where  shall  you 
bury?'  he  asked. 

'  That  is  more  than  I  can  tell  you,  brother,' 
I  answered. 

'  Who  is  your  undertaker? ' 

!  'I  have  none.' 

"'Oh!  I  see,'  said  the  brother.  'You  be 
quiet  till  I  run  over  to  Tottenhan  Court  road, — 
I  have  a  friend  there  who  is  an  undertaker.' 

* '  But,'  said  I,  c  I  have  not  a  penny  to  pay 
him.' 

"I  will  see  to  that,'  was  the  reply. 

'  Then  the  ground  —  one  little  spot  of  earth 
in  which  to  lay  that  form  from  sight  would  cost 
a  sum  which  I  have  no  hope  of  possessing  for 
months  or  years  to  come.' 

' '  I  own  one  grave,"  said  the  good  old  man 
—  'that  shall  be  opened,  and  your  wife  shall 
sleep  with  my  wife.' 

'  Thus,  strange  as  the  story  seems  to  you, 
a  way  was  made  for  me  through  the  deep,  and 
I  once  more  turned  from  my  little  family  in  the 
morning,  to  earn  their  bread. 


174  LIFE    AND   WRITINGS    OF 

"Not  long  after  Lhad  resumed  my  business, 
and  had  nearly  met  the  expenses  that  in  my 
time  of  need  the  good  old  brother  had  taken 
upon  himself,  1  was  suddenly  accosted  by  the 
doctor,  who,  by  the  way,  had  refused  all  recom- 
pense for  attention  to  my  late  wife. 

" '  Don't  you  want  a  good  chance  for  business  ?' 
he  inquired. 

" '  Yes,'  I  replied,  '  anything  better  than  what 
I  have.' 

w '  Well,'  he  continued,  *  the  office  of  librarian 
in  a  literary  and  scientific  institution  is  soon  to 
be  vacant,  and  with  your  consent  I  will  hand  in 
your  application.' 

"  Can  such  a  good  fortune  be  mine,  I  queried, 
when  left  alone,  after  such  severe  trials  of  want 
and  distress?  "  The  day  came  when  the  com- 
mittee were  to  examine  applicants.  It  was 
indeed  a  noble  looking  company,  consisting  of 
members  of  Parliament,  doctors,  lawyers,  and 
those  of  the  highest  rank.  The  library  was  one 
of  the  richest  in  England. 

"  On  arriving  at  the  place  I  found  some  forty 
applicants  had  preceded  me,  and  the  prospect 
for  an  unknown  humble  preacher  and  trades- 
man seemed  not  encouraging.  Nearly  the 
whole  number  had  passed  the  examination, 
which  was  long  and  minute,  and  removed  to 
await  the  final  selection.  Almost  the  last  one 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  175 

I  was  called  to  the  stand,  my  letter  read,  my 
handwriting  examined,  and  a  multitude  of  ques- 
tions answered. 

'  Will  my  services  be  required  on  the  Sab- 
bath?' I  inquired. 

'  Why,  what  can  call  you  away  on  the  Sab- 
bath?' 

"I  then  told  them  I  was  a  professor  of 
religion,  and  wished  the  privilege  of  a  few  hours 
of  public  worship, —  that  I  sometimes  preached 
the  gospel  to  the  poor,  and  could  not  turn  aside 
from  Christian  duty  for  the  tempting  salary  of 
the  post  before  me. 

'Who  knows  this  man?'    was  the  inquiry 
from  the  chair. 

"I  know  him,'  answered  my  friend  the 
doctor.  He  arose  and  said  what  he  pleased  of 
my  character  and  abilities,  and  I  was  dismissed, 
only  in  a  few  minutes  to  learn  that  I  was  chosen 
to  the  valuable  office  of  Librarian. 

*  Here  you  see  another  way  was  opened  for 
me,  not  only  to  secure  comfort  and  education 
for  my  children,  but  a  fount  of  intellectual 
enjoyment  and  instruction  for  myself. 

"Thus  onward,  sometimes  to  the  last  ex- 
tremity of  want,  again  to  the  height  of  pros- 
perity have  I  been  led,  always  upheld  by  the 
Arm  which  I  am  sure  will  never  fail  me  now, 
though  I  am  left  alone  in  a  strange  country, 
without  family  or  home." 


176  LIFE    AND   WRITINGS   OF 

Amid  the  heavy  darkness  of  skepticism  which 
has  so  beclouded  the  Christian  world,  it  is  sweet 
to  record  such  evidence  of  Divine  care  and  love. 
Often  in  the  blackest  storms  of  life,  when  de- 
spair begins  to  utter  its  wail,  there  is  a  sudden 
bursting  out  of  Deity,  as  sweet  and  welcome  as 
that  voice  on  the  sea  of  Galilee,  "  It  is  I,  be  not 
afraid." 


TO  A  BROTHER  CONTEMPLATING  THE  MINISTRY, 

BY   C.   B.    CO  WELL. 


Yes,  I  remember  now,  brother, 

That  solemn,  awful  hour 
When  thy  soul  in  mortal  combat 

Had  closed  with  sin's  dread  power. 

How  fears  like  th'  low'ring  tempest 
Rolled  o'er  thee,  wild  and  dark, 

While  grief  like  angry  billows, 
Surged  round  thy  spirit-bark. 

And  when  thy  heart  was  fainting 

'Neath  gathering  despair, 
How  fervent  rose  the  pleading 

Of  tlmt  anguish'd,  contrite  prayer  r 

Then,  oh,  what  strange  vibrations 

Soft  o'er  thy  spirit  thrill, 
As  a  radiant  form  bends  o'er  thee, 

And  whispers,  "  Peace,  be  still  I " 


MES.    CHRISTIANA   B.    COWELL.  177 

'Tis  done.     The  wrathful  billows, 

Their  Sovereign's  voice  obey, 
While  to  their  dark-vailed  chambers 

The  storm-winds  haste  away. 

What  glad,  devout  responses 

Waked  that  first  song  of  thine, 
While  all  thy  new-born  being 

Seemed  bathed  in  light  divine. 

Thou  art  no  more  thine  own,  brother, 

For  by  that  solemn  vow 
Thy  soul  in  holy  life-bonds 

To  Christ  is  wedded  now. 

In  th'  hush  of  th'  spirit-chamber, 

That  voice  is  whispering  still 
Of  the  high  and  holy  mission 

He  calls  thee  to  fulfill. 

An  august  hand  seems  pointing 

Out  o'er  a  sin-pail'd  earth, 
Where  countless  hosts  are  groping 

The  wild  ring  paths  of  death, 

Ah,  starts  thy  timid  spirit, 

And  fearful  shrinks  away  ? 
"  Oh,  what  am  I,"  thou  cnest, 

"  But  feeble,  sinful  clay  ?  " 

Yes,  weak !     Still  round  thee,  brother, 

Are  arms  of  love  and  might ; 
His  presence  shall  go  with  thee, 

And  He  will  give.thee  light. 

And  every  soul  thou  winnest, 

Like  stars  of  ray  divine, 
In  the  crown  of  thy  rejoicing 

With  fadeless  beams  shall  shine. 

8* 


178  LIFE    AND   WRITINGS   OF 

And  when  thy  steps  are  pressing 
Hard  on  the  dark  death  shore, 

Then  Christ  will  make  its  billows 
A  glowing  sapphire  floor, — 

O'er  which,  in  glorious  triumph, 
Thy  trusting  steps  he'll  guide, 

Safe  through  the  shining  portals, 
Just  on  the  other  side. 

Then,  oh,  what  songs  of  welcome, 
Leap  o'er  the  Heavenly  tyre, 

As  another  earth  worn  pilgrim 
Shall  join  the  upper  choir. 


THE  LAWYER'S  STORY  IN  THE  CON- 
CERT. 

BY  MRS.    C.    B.    COWELL. 

The  interesting  exercises  of  a  Sabbath-school 
concert  were  nearly  closed,  when  a  kind,  intel- 
ligent-looking stranger  was  called  on  for  re- 
marks. He  was  a  lawyer,  just  from  the  Court 
House,  and  had  called  to  see  his  old  friend,  the 
pastor  of  the  church,  and  with  him  had  dropped 
into  the  concert.  He  alluded,  in  a  very  happy 
manner,  to  the  gratifying  change,  from  the  tan- 
gled questions,  dry  logic,  hard  faces  and  harder 
hearts  of  the  court-room,  to  the  atmosphere  of 
such  pious  intelligence,  and  the  sight  of  so 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   B.    COWELL.  179 

many  faces,  glowing  with  youth,  health  and 
laudable  emulation. 

He  gave  a  brief  history  of  his  own  labors  in 
the  Sabbath-school,  which  he  had  always  loved  ; 
spoke  of  the  large  numbers  that  at  different 
periods  had  been  under  his  instruction,  as  im- 
pressive, attentive  little  boys,  that  are  now 
abroad  in  the  world  engaged  in  the  great  battle 
of  life  that  all  must  enter  ;  then  of  the  responsi- 
ble power  of  teachers,  in  fortifying  the  young 
heart  against  the  fatal  delusions  they  must 
meet,  and  inspiring  to  efforts  for  goodness  and 
true  greatness  in  after  life. 

— Young  friends,  said  the  speaker,  fixing  a 
kind  but  earnest  gaze  on  a  class  of  young  ladies 
before  him,  you  will  soon  go  out  from  these 
dear  home-influences,  these  precious  church  and 
school  instructions.  Each  will  stand  alone  in 
the  world  upon  his  own  merit !  Alone  you 
must  meet  temptations  ;  alone  you  must  toil  and 
struggle  for  the  right!  You  will  probably 
forget  what  I  have  said  to-night  —  you  will  for- 
get the  stranger  who  stands  before  you ;  but  I 
am  going  to  tell  you  a  story  which,  I  think, 
you  will  remember,  especially  when  you  are 
tempted  to  murmur  at  the  ills  and  events  of  life 
which  you  cannot  control :  I  have  a  friend  liv- 
ing in  B.,  who  is  the  most  self-possessed,  even- 
tempered  man  I  ever  knew.  Could  you  take 


180  LIFE   AND   WRITINGS    OF 

him  in  your  arms  and  hold  him  fast  until  to- 
morrow morning,  and  his  business  might  call 
him  ever  so  urgent,  yet,  when  he  found  he 
could  not  get  away,  he  would  be  perfectly  calm. 
No  means  that  you  or  any  one  could  use,  would 
ruffle  the  smooth  surface  of  his  mind.  "How 
is  it,  Brother  Town,"  I  once  said  to  him,  "that 
you  take  everything  so  quietly  ?  Have  you  no 
fretful  temper  in  common  with  other  men?" 
"Why,  sir,"  said  he,  "I  have  a  far  more  violent 
temper  than  you.  Indeed,  few  men  have  such 
a  hasty,  impatient  spirit  as  I."  "How  then,"  I 
asked,  "have  you  acquired  this  perfect  self-con- 
trol?" "I  will  tell  you  an  incident  in  my  life," 
he  said,  "  which  has  had  something  to  do  with 
this  matter : 

—It  was  the  28th  of  August,  1826,  a  day 
memorable  in  the  northern  part  of  New  Hamp- 
shire, that  I  was  traveling  in  a  stage-coach  to 
the  White  Mountains.  I  had  arranged  my  plan 
to  be  at  the  Notch  House  that  night,  and  was 
very  determined  in  my  purpose.  Rain  had 
been  falling  at  intervals  for  a  long  time  ;  night 
was  coming  on,  and  the  mud  was  growing 
deeper,  and  the  lumbering,  creaking  coach 
dragged  slower  and  slower.  I  was  impatient ; 
I  was  worse  —  I  was  insolent.  I  would  stretch 
my  head  toward  the  driver,  and  urge  him  to 
drive  on,  while  the  slashing,  grinding  wheels 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  181 

and  the  wallowing  horses  plainly  told  me  they 
were  doing  all  they  could.  I  made  myself 
wretched  and  all  who  were  with  me.  At  length 
we  came  to  a  dead  halt  in  front  of  a  tavern,  five 
miles  short  of  my  destination,  and  I  was  told  we 
could  go  no  farther.  Then  I  was  frantic.  I 
plead  with  the  driver,  offered  him  two,  three, 
then  five  dollars,  to  take  me  on  to  the  Xotch 
House.  But  all  in  vain.  I  then  found  the 
landlord.  I  urged  and  entreated  for  a  horse, 
offering  as  before,  up  to  any  reasonable  sum  he 
could  demand.  But  he,  too,  was  inexorable. 
"It  is  not  safe,"  he  said,  ''for  man  or  beast 
to  be  out  on  such  a  night  as  this.  It  will  be 
a  dreadful  night,"  he  said,  shaking  his  head 
solemnly,  and  looking  towards  the  mountains  : 
"  there  is  a  hard  storm  gathering."  I  looked  in 
the  direction  of  his  hand,  as  he  pointed  to  a 
black  mass  of  clouds  that  seemed  rolling  in 
toward  the  mountains,  and  hiding  their  tops 
from  sight.  Already  the  thunder  began  to  roll 
in  long  rumbling  echoes  from  peak  to  peak,  and 
the  occasional  flash  of  lightning  lighted  up  the 
scene,  making  the  darkness  more  visible  that 
succeeded  it.  It  was  a  sight  grand  and  terrible 
in  the  extreme.  Had  I  been  other  than  a  wild 
tempered  man,  I  should  have  been  subdued 
into  a  profound  awe  before  such  sublime  piles 
of  earth  and  granite,  lifting  their  heads  among 


182  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

the  warring  elements  that  seemed  ready  to  burst 
upon  them.  Like  a  heavy  armed  legion,  tramp- 
ing on  to  the  deadly  conflict,  the  surcharged 
clouds  seemed  marshalled  for  the  work  of 
death,  while  the  peals  of  thunder  signalled  their 
approach,  and  betokened  their  terrible  mission. 
With  all  this  solemn  grandeur  before  me,  I 
could  not  calm  the  spirit-tempest  within.  I  re- 
tired to  my  room,  but  not  to  sleep.  I  vented 
myself  in  wicked  mutterings  at  this  delay,  and 
the  probable  result  in  deranging  my  business  at 
home,  the  anxiety  of  friends,  in  short,  the  com- 
plete overturning  of  my  entire  programme  for 
this  trip  for  pleasure  and  business  to  the  far- 
famed  White  Mountains.  Of  course  I  was  in 
no  mood  for  reverence  ;  I  only  wished  the  time 
away  ;  but  fiercer  raged  the  storm.  The  dark- 
ness from  my  window  was  fearfully  lighted  up 
now  and  then,  by  most  vivid  glare  of  electric 
flame.  The  thunder  seemed  crashing  down  all 
around  me. 

I  walked  the  floor  all  night,  and  at  morning 
was  the  same  impatient  man  of  the  night  before. 
I  rallied  out  very  early,  determined  now  that 
nothing  should  hinder  the  accomplishment  of 
my  designs.  I  walked  on  at  a  rapid  step,  when 
suddenly  I  came  upon  a  large  tree  that  had 
been  torn  up  from  the  earth,  and  thrown  across 
the  way  I  was  to  pass.  I  stopped,  gazed  a 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  183 

moment,  and  a  slight  tremor  ran  over  me. 
Here  was  some  of  the  danger  the  landlord  fore- 
saw last  night.  But,  too  self-willed  to  admit 
the  gentle  rebuke  that  began  to  knock  at  my 
heart,  I  scrambled  over  the  rough  tree  and  hur- 
ried on  faster  than  before.  Soon,  however,  I 
found  myself  peering  down  a  deep  gully,  that 
had  been  washed  out  by  the  mountain  torrent, 
directly  across  the  road.  Had  I  reached  this 
spot  in  the  dark  storm  last  night,  I  began  to 
think ;  had  I  plunged  into  the  cold  flood  that 
was  rushing  along  here,  what?  Ah!  and  I 
dared  not  think  what  might  have  been  the 
consequence.  Another  chill  went  creeping  along 
my  nerves,  and  another  rebuke  began  to  knock 
at  my  heart.  Still  I  would  not  submit,  but 
bridged  the  chasm  as  best  I  could,  and  again 
hastened  on,  a  little  more  nervous  than  before. 
I  felt  a  solitude  almost  frightful.  No  living 
thing  was  to  be  seen.  No  sound  was  heard 
save  the  torrents  rushing  along  from  various 
points,  thick  with  mud  and  broken  branches  of 
trees  and  shrubs,  and  mingling  their  hoarse 
voices,  made  the  prevailing  desolation  even  more 
desolate. 

Again  I  came  to  a  sudden  halt.  Before  me, 
and  lying  in  the  highway  in  which  I  was  to  get 
on,  was  a  monster  rock.  It  had  been  washed 
from  its  bed  and  rolled  down  the  distant  moun- 


184  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

tain  side,  and  here  stood  silently  preaching  to 
me  its  solemn  lesson  of  the  mighty  Hand  that 
holds  the  destinies  of  nations,  who  upholds  the 
world  and  rules  the  elements.  I  stood  amazed, 
almost  petrified  with  fear  and  self-reproach.  I 
looked  a  little  farther  on,  and  saw  that  it  was  im- 
possible to  proceed.  I  looked  toward  the  Notch 
House.  From  there  up  the  mountain  was  the 
broad  path  of  an  avalanche,  that  had  but  recent- 
ly been  torn  from  the  side  of  the  mountain. 
There  I  might  have  been,  had  my  wish  been 
granted.  There,  perhaps,  the  friends  I  wished 
to  see  were  struggling  with  a  terrible  death. 
(This,  as  you  know,  was  the  sad  fate  of  the 
"  Willey  family."  Not  one  was  left  to  tell  the 
story  of  that  dreadful  slide,  that  buried  them  all 
beneath  its  ruins.) 

What  am  I,  that  I  should  have  been  held  back 
from  like  destruction?  Or  that  I  should  con- 
tend with  the  Almighty  ?  I  sank  on  my  knees 
beside  the  huge  bowlder,  and  implored  forgive- 
ness for  my  rashness  and  wicked  rebellion 
against  God,  and  covenanted  there  amid-  that 
solemn  desolation,  with  God  and  my  own  con- 
science, never  more  to  resist  Providence,  or 
murmur  at  the  disappointments  of  this  short  life. 

I  arose,  subdued  and  penitent.  I  picked  up 
a  little  stone  from  the  spot,  brought  it  home, 
and  laid  upon  my  desk.  Now  —  said  he,  tak- 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  185 

ing  the  stone  in  his  hand  —  when  I  am  tempted 
to  complain  or  fret  at  the  petty  ills  of  life,  I 
take  this  stone  and  remember  that  vow  beneath 
the  mountains.  This,  then,  is  my  talisman." 


Febnwry,  4th,  1862. — Another  painful  death. 
Another  darling  boy  torn  from  our  love  and  lain 
silent  and  cold  in  the  little  shroud.  Was  it  in 
wrath,  O  wise  Father*  that  this  blow  was  sent 
upon  us  ?  Have  we  turned  away  from  thy  love 
and  the  great  work  of  grace  in  which  Thou 
biddest  us  labor,  and  sought  for  ease  or  earthly 
treasure?  Have  we  joined  ourselves  to  earthly 
idols  and  forgotten  Thee?  This  we  know: 
Thou  doest  right ;  yet  we  sit  under  an  awful 
pall.  Sorrow  like  a  flood  sweeps  over  us  in 
successive  waves,  with  its  dull,  heavy  roll,  it 
bears  down  our  frail  spirit  and  we  are  ready  to 
cry  out,  my  heart,  Oh,  my  heart,  it  is  faint  and 
weary  with  oppresive  pain.  In  innocent  child- 
hood he  has  gladdened  our  hearts  and  cheered 
the  rough  path  of  life.  As  he  grew7  in  years, 
the  developments  of  moral  and  mental  powers 
were  truly  gratifying.  Affection  of  unusual 
sweetness  seemed  springing  up  in  his  baby 
heart,  which  united  day  by  day,  more  and  more 
the  hearts  of  the  household.  Sweet  and  fair  in 


186  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

features,  amiable,  active,  self-sacrificing  and 
affectionate.  Oh,  how  we  loved  him  !  How 
pure  and  elevating,  how  soothing  and  chasten- 
ing the  love  such  a  single  heart.  How  imutter- 

0  c? 

ably  deep  the  love  that  flows  out  toward  such  a 
treasure.  No  language  can  give  utterance  to 
that  yearning  pain  with  which  our  hearts  cling 
to  every  spot  ill  his  history,  and  to  the  dear 
memory  of  his  short  sweet  mission  with  us. 
How  sweet  the  hope  that  beams  upon  the  dark 
vale  through  which  we  tread  and  pierces,  now 
and  then,  the  pall  of  sorrow  and  death  and 
gloom  that  lies  on  our  spirits, —  the  joyous  hope 
that  we  shall  meet  again.  Never  before,  did  I 
feel  the  great  gift  of  the  Son  of  God  who  has 
redeemed  such  as  our  darling  boy  from  the 
cruel  jaws  of  endless  death.  The  struggle  with 
the  last  foe  was  long  and  dreadful  in  the  ex- 
treme. The  low,  piteous  groans,  the  agonized 
features,  seemed  more  than  a  frail  mother's 
heart  could  endure.  I  fell  on  my  knees  before 
the  Lord,  and  in  tears  and  bitterness  of  soul 
besought  Him  to  seize  the  little  sufferer  from 
the  iron  grasp  of  the  cold  death  foe,  and  hide 
him  in  the  bosom  of  His  own  paternal  love. 
Take  back,  O  Lord,  the  treasure  thou  hast 
given  us,  release  him  from  this  dreadful  woe. 
The  darkness  such,  as  made  the  words  of  the 
dying  sou  of  God,  "My  God,  why  hast  Thou 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   B.    CO  WELL.  187 

forsaken  me?"  seemed  the  most  fitting  utterance 
ot  our  agonized  spirits,  as  the  heavy  awful  death 
shadow  shut  down  upon  us.  Just  as  the  last 
words  of  prayer  for  his  release  were  uttered, 
the  last  dying  moan  died  away  on  the  stillness 
of  night.  "He  is  gone,"  was  whispered  from 
one  to  another  of  the  kind  watchers,  whose  eyes 
had  been  fixed  on  the  distorted,  darkened, 
agonized  features  of  my  dear  boy.  Dearly  as 
we  loved  him,  we  could  not  much  longer  have 
endured  this  distress  ;  and  the  assurance  that 
he  was  at  rest  was  welcome.  Such  a  scene  ! 
may  I  be  spared  from  its  repetition  !  Yet  be- 
neath all  this  gloomy  visage  of  death,  there  was 
a  sinless  heart  redeemed  from  the  primeval 
curse,  by  the  great  love  of  Christ,  taking  its 
flight  from  a  world  that  had  in  store  for  him,  in 
common  with  all  pilgrims  on  earth,  its  varied 
ills  of  storms,  disappointments,  sufferings  and 
temptations  to  sin.  What  then  must  be  the 
agony  of  death,  where  there  is  no  such  hope  to 
relieve  the  gloom, —  no  Saviour's  blood  to  plead, 
but  only  a  fearful  looking  for  the  wrath  and  in- 
dignation of  a  long  neglected  and  injured  God, 
—  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  justice  and  infinite 
power  when  the  last  offer  of  His  grace  has  been 
spurned  !  "  Who  can  abide  the  day  of  His 
coming?  Who  can  dwell  with  devouring 
flames  ?  " 


188  LIFE   AND   WHITINGS    OF 

Our  little  treasure  now  lies  beneath  the  cold 
snow,  beside  the  little  forms  that  have  slept 
more  than  eight  years  in  their  low  beds.  How 
the  bosom  heaves  with  the  heavy  surges  of 
grief,  as  we  take  the  last  look  at  the  marble 
face,  the  fixed  cold  lips  that  have  so  often 
pressed  our  own.  The  high,  full  forehead, 
over  which  we  had  so  often  smoothed  his  soft 
hair,  all  so  cold,  so  rigid,  the  tiny  hand  clasping 
the  myrtle  sprig  lying  so  meek  and  motionless 
on  his  still  breast,  and  just  over  his  heart  with 
his  slender  white  finger  pointing  to  it,  lies  a 
slip  of  paper  on  which  is  written,  "Suffer  little 
children  to  come  unto  me,  for  of  such  is  the 
Kingdom  of  Heaven."  Long,  long  will  its 
daguerreotype,  in  all  its  beautiful  outlines,  re- 
main upon  the  page  of  memory,  sprinkled  over 
and  over  with  the  tears  of  bleeding  love. 


A  TRIBUTE  TO  NANNIE  SHAPLEIGH, 
WHO  DIED  MAY,  1862. 

Enwreathed  in  blooming  flowers,  Nannie, 

We've  laid  thee  down  to  rest ; 
Thy  cold  hands  holding  roses 

Meek  folded  on  thy  breast. 

Oh,  how  our  bosoms  heaved,  Nannie, 

With  sorrow  wild  and  deep, 
To  have  thee  coldly  lying 

In  death's  long  dreamless  sleep. 


MllSv   CHRISTIANA  B.    COWELL.  189 

We  miss  tbee  sadly  now,  Nannie, 

We  miss  thee  when  at  prayer, 
We  mis*  thcc  at  our  board,  love. 

We  uliss  thee  everywhere, 

• 

There's  sorrow  in  out  songs,  Nannie) 

For  one  sweet  note  is  still ; 
No  more  thy  soft  child  treble 

Will  o'er  our  heart  chords  thrill, 

We  miss  thy  plaintive  moans,  Nannie> 

With  pains  that  would  not  cease, 
Till  our  very  hearts  in  anguish 

Implored  thy  soul's  release* 

But  all  is  over  now,  Nannie, 

Thou'st  joined  the  minstrel  throug 
Of  little  shining  pilgrims, 

In  the  land  of  light  and  song, 

Xow  o'er  our  stricken  spirits, 

There  steals  a  hallowed  strain, 
Thy  own  sweot  voice  seems  breathing, 

"  We  shall  soon  meet  again," 


[For  the  Morninjf  Star.] 
ODE  FOR  THE  TD1ES. 

A  welcome,  glad  welcome,  thou  beauteous  spring, 
With  hearts  tuned  to  gladness,  thy  welcome  we  sing  j 
O'er  the  hills  and  the  mountains,  send  forth  the  glad  sound 
While  vales  and  deep  woodlands  the  chorus  resound. 
Thou  art  here,  thou  art  here,  with  thy  soft,  balmy  breath. 
And  the  waters,  long  chained  in  the  silence  of  death, 
Leaping  forth  with  wild  rapture^  send  out  their  glad  cheer 
Through  the  ringing  old  woods  —  thou  art  here,  thou  art  here. 


190  L1FH   AND  WRITINGS   OF 

And  the  fugitive  birds  spread  their  wings  to  the  breeze, 
And  away  from  the  shores  of  the  sunny  south  seas, 
With  their  songs  of  rich  melody,  joyfully  fly, 
To  swell  the  glad  choruSj  the  springtime  is  nigh. 
And  the  invalid  *  miles  a  warm  welcome,  for  now 
He  will  bare  to  thy  zephyrs  his  languishing  brow; 
And  the  life  current  leaps  'long  its  slowtmveled  track, 
As  the  visions  of  health,  with  thy  flowers  come  back. 
But  the  past  I    O  the  past  I    we  forget  to  rejoice, 
As  we  give  to  the  wild  wintry  tempest  a  voice  ; 
Hear  them  whispering  still  o'er  the  echoing  earth 
Of  the  comfortless  babes  by  the  fireless  hearth  ; 
Of  the  traveler  lone  on  the  tenantless  plain, 
That,  bewildered  and  chilled,  sinks  to  rise  not  again  5 
Of  the  mariner,  wrecked  on  the  ice-covered  shore, 
Who  will  ride  o'er  the  tempest-tossed  billows  no  more, 
Where  the  wild  flowers  spring  'neath  the  unfurrow'd  hill 
In  his  coffinless  slumbers,  he  lieth  there  still. 
But  hark  I  there's  an  echo  more  terrible  far, 
'Tis  the  deep  rolling  din,  and  the  wild  clash  of  war  ; 
'Tis  the  low  dying  moans  from  the  gore-bedrenched  plain, 
Where,  wounded  and  pale,  lie  our  dear  noble  slain. 
-Oh,  tell  us,  ye  winds,  for  ye  surely  were  there 
To  dry  the  death-damps,  and  to  drink  mem'ry's  tear  — - 
Bring  ye  not  the  last  sigh  of  their  quivering  breath, 
"  Home,  country  and  freedom,"  their  watchword  in  death  'i 
Bear  ye  not  the  soft  breathings  of  tenderness  deep, 
For  the  loved,  who  will  hear  victry's  shout  but  to  weep? 
But  the  heart  stricken  household  I    Oh,  spare  us  the  tale, 
For  the  air  trembleth  now  with  the  swell  of  their  wail  I 
We  hear  it,  we  feel  it,  and  our  very  hearts  quake 
At  the  thrilling  dirge-music  that  the  storm  echoes  make. 
Alas  !  that  so  many  must  suffer  alone, 
And  lie,  coldly  sleeping,  unnamed  and  unknown, 
But  ye  watch  stars  of  Heaven  I  ye  smile  where  they  sleep, 
And  your  calm,  silent  vigils  above  them  will  keep, 
Till  the  "long  roll  "  of  Gabriel  shall  peal  from  the  skies  > 
To  marshal  earth's  hosts  as  from  dust  they  arise. 
Then  woe  to  that  traitor  on  whose  fiendish  head 
The  gnilt  of  this  fathomless  sorrow  is  hud  ! 


MliS.    CHRISTIANA   B.    COWELL.  191 

Though  sad  is  this  strain,  let  it  blend  with  onr  song, 
And  swell  it  with  praises  to  Him  who  hath  strung 
These. hearts  so  exquisite  —  so  responsive  in  tone, 
To  Nature's  wild  music,  and  humanity's  moan. 

C.  B.  COWELL. 
West  Lebanon,  Me.,  April,  1862. 


THE  GREAT  LETTER  FROM  "  OVER  THE 
RIVER." 

"  Mother,"  said  a  little  boy,  "  I  wish  I  could 
know  what  little  brother  is  doing  and  thinking 
now  in  Heaven."  A  mournful  shade  come  over 
his  face  as  he  continued,  "I  miss  him  so  when 
I  come  in  the  house,  I  can't  stay  here ;  then  I 
go  out  door  to  play,  but  I  am  all  alone,  out 
there,  and  then  I  feel  as  though  I  should  cry, 
but  I  think  it  won't  do  him  any  good,  so  I 
don't."  "My  son,"  said  the  mother,  her  heart 
still  bleeding  with  the  wound  in  her  affections  ; 
for  a  darling  boy  had  but  a  few  days  been  lain 
away  in  the  grave,  "we  must  love  the  Bible 
now  more  than  ever  before."  "Why  do  you 
say  so,"  said  the  bereaved  boy.  "  What  if  you 
and  I,"  said  the  mother,  "  father,  sister,  little 
baby  and  Irving,  were  all  beside  a  river,  and  a 
pale,  silent  boatman  should  come  and  touch  our 
little  Irving,  and  beckon  him  to  follow  him,  we 


LIFE  AND  WRITINGS  OF 


might  entreat  and  weap  and  cling;  to  the  darling 
boy  yet  all  in  vain.  We  must  see  him  move 
silently  and  slowly  into  the  arms  of  the  ghastly 
boatman,  and  soon  we  see  him  borne  off  from 
the  shore,  griviujf  back  no  answer  to  all  our  cries 

"    O  O 

of  distress  and  yearning  love.  We  all  look  after 
him  till  a  thick  mist  hides  him  from  sight.  We 
may  wander  along  the  shore,  and  weep  and 
watch,  and  strain  our  eyes  to  weariness  by 
looking  out  upon  the  dark  water  that  seems  to 
have  no  bound  or  shore  on  the  further  side. 
To  add  to  our  distress,  we  are  repeatedly  told 
by  all  we  meet,  that  none  that  puss  over  this 
mysterious  water  ever  come  back  to  us  again, 
but  we  ourselves  must  soon  be  hurried  away  to 
the  same  returnless  voyage.  How  we  should 
long  to  know  where  these  pale  voyagers  were 
landed.  How  we  wish  to  know  their  employ- 
ment and  condition.  What  would  we  not  give 
to  have  some  knowledge  of  that  hidden  shore 
where  our  dear  household  treasure  is  gone." 
"Oh,  I  see,  mother,  what  you  mean  ;  if  it  was 
not  for  the  Bible,  we  could  not  know  where 
dear  little  brother  is  now*"  "  Yes,  my  boy,  that 
is  it.  It  is  the  Bible  that  comes  to  us  like  a 
great  letter  from  over  this  dark,  broad  river, 
that  separates  all  mortals  from  the  great  eternity 
beyond.  It  comes  from  the  King  of  that  dis- 
tant country  ;  yes,  the  Bible  tells  us  that  little 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  193 

children  are  in  Heaven,  and  there  Irving  is, 
with  the  bright  angels.  Now  let  us  think  how 
gloomy  it  would  he  for  us  to  sit  here  and  talk 
about  little  brother,  if  we  had  no  hope  that  he 
was  still  alive,  happy,  and  living  where  we  may 
one  day  go  to  meet  him.  Yet  the  poor  heathen 
have  never  heard  of  the  Bible,  and  know  noth- 
ing of  that  beautiful  land  on  the  other  shore. 
They  have  never  heard,  like  us,  how  the  Prince 
of  that  great  country  came  and  prepared  the 
way,  and  left  directions  how  we  might  find  that 
glorious  kingdom,  where  the  cold  death-man 
can  never  come,  to  touch  or  take  us  away  any 
more," 

Know  ye  that  your  Father  takes  but  his  own, 
And  the  voice  that  now  calls  me  is  kind  : 

That  He  brightens  for  you  the  path  to  His  throne, 
And  there  your  affections  He'll  bind. 

And  when  ye  shall  come  to  life's  closing  day, 
Ye  shall  bless  both  the  staff  and  the  rod  ; 

And  calm  may  ye  pass  as  I'm  passing  awiiy 
To  the  arms  of  my  Father  and  God, 

Oh,  rejoice,  that  your  Irving  will  linger  no  more 

In  a  dark  world  of  sorrow  like  this  ; 
But  spreads  his  blest  pinions  to  fold  them  110  more, 

Till  he  lights  on  the  bosom  of  bliss. 

I 


LIFE    AND    WHITINGS    OF 


PARTING  HYMN. 
To  REV.  J.  M.  F.  AND  WIFE,  MISSIONARIES  TO  CHINA. 

Lo  1  a  land  long  wrapped  in  darkness, 

Wearied  with  her  dismal  night, 
'Pears  far  o'er  the  pathless  waters, 

Pleading  for  one  ray  of  light. 

Ye  have  heard  her  mournful  wailing, 
'Bovethe  syren  charms  of  youth  ; 

Ye  liave  the  high  commission, 

T'  bear  far  hence  the  lamp  of  truth, 

What  though  love  is  fondly  yearning 
O'er  the  cherished  household  band, 

And  the  thousand  ties  that  bind  you 
To  this  happy  -gospel  land. 

Know  that  every  one  that  yieldeth 

All  these  joys  for  Jesus'  love, 
"Here,  hath  hundred  fold  in  blessing 

And  eternal  life  above." 

Go  ;  though  conflicts  sore  await  you,  — 

Weary  years  of  toil  and  pain  ; 
"  He  that  goeth  forth  with  weeping 

Shall  rejoicing  come  again." 

And  each  soul  that  ye  may  gather, 

Shall,  with  radiance  divine, 
In  the  crown  of  your  rejoicing, 

With  unlading  glory  shine. 

Go,  and  He  who  o'er  the  tempest 

High  in  Majesty  presides, 
Marks  tho  pathway  for  the  lightning, 

Sets  the  bound  of  ocorvn's  tides. 


WHS.    CHRISTIANA  B.    COWELL.  195 

tie  will  mark  each  tear  thut  falleth, 

Number  every  bosom  thrill, 
Lay  His  hand  upon  thy  spirit, 

Bid  its  wildest  waves  "  be  stilL'' 

firm  through  nil  life's  sad  mutations  , 
He's  your  pledged  and  mighty  Friend, 

Sweet  through  every  sorrow  whispering, 
"  Lo  I  I'm  with  you  to  the  endi" 


WRITTEN  ixm  MISS  h.  rvs  ALBUM. 

Earth  has  a  thousand  luring  dreams, 
That  like  a  meteor's  flashing  light 

Along  life's  pathway  gleam, 
Then  fades  alas,  in  rayless  night. 

But  there's  a  radiance  friendship  gives, 

Sereiier  far  than  Luna's  ray, 
Than  wanders  'mid  the  folding  leaves^ 

Or  on  the  sleeping  waters  lay. 

Long  may  its  halo  circle  tlieo, 

And  cheer  thy  kindly  trusting  heart 

'Midst  ills  in  life  we  know  must  be, 

When  fortune  frowns  and  1'riends  depart.. 


ON  BOARD  THE  INDIAMAX,  Saturday,  Get.  29,  18&), 

MY  DEAR  MRS.  GOWELL  :  —  I  suppose  you  will 
have  expected  u  letter  from  us  long  ere  this, 
und  I  must  beg  your  forgiveness  for  being  so 
negligent.  I  have  had  much  to  do,  and  think 


19  G  Ltfii  A:\D  WRITINGS  OF 


of,  and  many  letters  to  write.  I  think  I  may 
assure  myself  of  your  forgiveness,  and  feel  sure 
that  this  note  will  not  be  uninteresting  to  you, 
written  just  as  we  are  starting  on  our  long 
Voyage,  and  just  as  the  shores  of  our  dear 
America  are  fading  from  our  sight.  This, 
with  others,  I  will  send  by  the  pilot. 

We  have  had  a  very  pleasant,  yet  very  sad 
time  since  we  left  Lebanon.  It  was  pleasant  to 
visit  my  sister,  but  oh,  how  hard  it  is  to  part 
with  those  We  love  !  Yet  I  trust  We  are  in  the 
path  of  duty,  and  have  right  motives  in  thus 
giving  up  eountry  and  friends,  I  long  for  a 
more  earnest  spirit  and  entire  consecration  to 
the  service  of  our  Redeemer  ! 

We  are  very  pleasantly  situated.     This  is  a 

fine  ship,  being'  a  fast  sailer.     Our  fello\v-pas- 

-sengers  appear  very  kind  and  agreeable,  but  we 

have  scarcely  had  time  to  judge  of  them.     We 

are  anticipating  a  very  pleasant  voyage  ;   aud 

'  what  a  comfort  it  is  to  know  that  we  are  in  the 

hands  of  an  infinitely  kind  and  merciful  Father  I 

Need  I  ask  you  to  pray  for  us,  and  remember 

us,  now  that  we  are  on  the  mighty  deep?  ' 

I  know  I  need  not.  It  is  one  of  our  greatest 
comforts  to  know  that  we  are  followed  by  the 
prayers  of  so  many  of  the  people  of  God,  and 
have  the  sympathy  of  so  many  Christian  hearts. 
I  hope  you  and  your  family  are  prospering, 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   B.    COWELL.  197 

You  must  give  my  love  to  your  husband  and 
daughter.  The  little  ones  will  not  remember 
me  ;  but  I  hope  that  each  one  will  early  give 
their  hearts  to  God,  and  become  bright  and 
shining  lights  ! 

AVe  have  thought,  several  times,  of  writing 
what  you  desired,  but  have  shrunk  from  it,  and 
you  must  excuse  us  from  writing  it.  For  rny 
own  part,  I  felt  as  if  there  was  nothing  in  my 
own  life  that  could  be  of  any  use  to  you.  The 
memory  of  my  mother  is  sacred,  and  to  her  I 
feel  I  owe  much  of  what  I  am  now ;  but  I  have 
nothing  very  remarkable  that  I  could  write. 

How  pleasant  it  would  be,  were  you  with  us  ! 
It  seems  a  pity,  when  your  heart  is  so  much  in 
the  work,  that  the  way  has  never  opened  for 
your  going  ;  but  God  has  something  for  you  to 
do  in  your  native  land,  and  I  hope  the  path  of 
duty  will  be  made  plain  to  you,  and  that  you 
will  be  the  means  in  the  hands  of  God  of  doing 
much  for  the  cause  of  Christ. 

I  must  now  bid  you  good-by,  with  much  love 
and  many  kind  wishes  for  your  health  and  hap- 
piness. Mr.  Farnham  desires  to  be  kindly  re- 
membered to  3rou  and  family. 

Accept  my  kindest  love,  and  believe  me  truly 
your  friend,  M.  J.  FARNHAM. 


198  LIFE    AND   WHITINGS    OF 


A  STORY  FOE  BOYS. 
The  evening  fire  was  sending  out  a  cheerful, 

O  *1 

wavering  light  in  the  reverend  father's  sitting- 
room  ;  the  busy  mother  hud  placed  the  small, 
square  table  and  light  in  the  centre  of  the  room, 
which  was  the  signal  for  all  who  had  need  of 
light  to  gather  near.  Two  little  witching  boys 
had  stolen  up  to  their  father's  chair,  where  he 
sat  looking  vacantly  into  a  nice  blazing  fire  he 
had  just  been  adjusting,  while  the  tiny,  brass 
head  tongs  hung  carelessly  from  his  hands. 

"Please,  pa,"  said  the  oldest,  "will  you  tell 
us  a  story?  You  look  as  though  you  were 
thinking  out  one  now.  Will  you,  please,  pa? 
we  are  all  ready  now."  No  answer.  "  Wait  a 
little,  sonny,"  said  the  mother;  "he  is  thinking 
very  hard  now  ;  better  not  disturb  him."  "What 
is  it?"  at  last  broke  out  the  good  parson. 
"Thinking?  yes,  I  was  thinking  of  our  good 
neighbor  Grant,  whom  I  met  to-day."  "Please 
tell  us  a  story,  pa,"  chimed  in  the  little  pleader, 
with  new  courage.  "A  story  ?  Well,  I  will  tell 
you  about  Mr.  Grant,  for  I  was  thinking  away 
back  more  than  thirty  years,  when  he  and  I  were 
school-boys  together.  He  was  a  fine  fellow,  sou 
of  a  sea  captain,  who  had  left  the  sea  for  a  farm 
near  by  my  fathers.  There  was  something  in 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  199 

those  days,  my  little  boys,  that  you  never  saw, 
and  I  hope  that  you  never  will  —  that  was,  ruin- 
drinking  in  a  school ;.  boys  would  give  a  penny 
each,  and  send  to  the  rum  store  and  buy  it, 
and  during  intermission,  would  drink. 

"  This  was  a  shocking  custom  ;  but  there  were 
no  temperance  lectures  or  societies,  such  as  have 
since  blessed  the  world.  Well,  my  good  fellow, 
Grant,  was  led  hard  on  to  trouble  by  a  wild 
young  lad  named  Foss.  Although  the  son  of 
poor  but  respectable  parents,  he  became,  through 
this  practice  of  rum-drinking,  which  everywhere 
prevailed,  a  dangerous  companion.  Once  I  saw 
him  with  the  young  Grant,  whom  he  had  led 
astray,  entirely  helpless  from  the  effect  of  their 
wicked  drink."  "  Did  you  drink,  pa ? "  "I did, 
at  lirst ;  but  for  some  reason,  I  felt  such  a  dis- 
like to  the  appearance  of  those  who  took  much 
more,  that  I  abandoned  it,  and  persuaded  a  few 
others  to  join  me,  although  we  had  to  endure 
the  ridicule  of  both  old  and  young  for  our  strange 
notion.  "Well,  a  few  years  passed  on.  I  had 
been  away  from  home,  attending  school  and  in 
business,  and  when  I  became  a  man  I  came  back 
to  teach  in  this  same  old  school-house.  There 
were  these  same  boys,  Grant  and  Foss,  now  my 
scholars,  though  grown  to  young  men.  It  was 
not  long  before  I  saw  that  the  same  habits  of 
early  life  were  still  clinging  to  them.  They 


200  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

were  sometimes  so  affected  with  strong  drink 
that  they  could  not  read  or  perform  their  duties 
in  school. 

At  the  close  of  the  afternoon,  one  day,  I  re- 
quested them  to  remain  after  the  other  scholars 
had  left.  When  we  were  left  alone,  I  talked 
with  them  of  their  habits,  and  told  them  of  the 
fearful  waste  of  time,  talent  and  money  it  was 
causing  them  now,  and  the  misery  and  poverty 
it  would  be  likely  to  bring  in  the  future.  Grant 
relented,  and  said  he  was  ashamed,  and  thought 
he  should  reform.  Foss  looked  angry,  and  went 
away  in  sullen  silence.  Days  passed  on.  Grant, 
again  yielding  to  the  effect  of  hiscomrade'ssneers 
and  jokes,  was  again  made  a  fool  by  strong  drink, 
and  came  into  school  unfit  for  study.  I  felt  that 
I  must  check  this  terrible  influence  on  the  school, 
which  was  not  then  addicted  to  the  habits  of 
earlier  days.  Again  I  addressed  them  tenderly, 
for  I  pitied  them,  but- firmly,  for  I  felt  the  im- 
portance of  my  position.  I  exposed  the  dan- 
gerous effects  of  such  habits,  and  especially  told 
them  how  easily  a  young  may,  though  reared  in 
a  good  and  pious  family,  who  had  a  mother  to 
weep  over  him,  a  loving  sister  to  persuade,  love 
and  try  to  save  him,  yet  by  associating  with  a 
bad  companion,  would  be  ruined  in  a  few  days  ; 
forming  a  good  character  was  a  long,  slow  and 
diligent  work,  but  spoiling  it  could  be  done  at 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   B.    COWELL.  201 

once.  I  finally  told  them  they  must  quit  strong 
drink,  or  quit  the  school.  There  was  a  long  and 
hard  contention  between  the  two  hale  fellows. 
Grant  entreated  Foss  to  join  him  in  his  efforts 
to  reform  ;  but  in  vain.  He,  at  last,  like  a  true- 
hearted,  noble  fellow,  decided  that  he  would 
leave  his  vile  companion  ;  he  believed  there  was 
something  in  their  teacher's  counsel  that  it  would 
be  safe  for  them  to  follow.  Indignant  at  the  de- 
cision of  his  comrade,  Foss  turned  away,  with 
profane,  angry  mutterings,  declaring  that  he 
should  leave  the  school  rather  than  give  up  his 
drink.  Grant  continued  to  come  to  school,  and 
a  very  kind,  pleasant  young  man  he  was,  be- 
loved by  all  who  knew  him. 

"Many  years  have  passed  since  those  days." 
"And  where  are  they  now?"  inquired  little 
Hervey,  who  had  been  looking  with  earnest 
eyes  fill  the  while  into  his  father's  face.  "  Well, 
my  son,  Grant  kept  hi.s  good  resolution.  He  is 
now  a  steady,  honest,  respectable  man,  a  worthy 
and  beloved  citizen  ;  when  we  met,  the  other 
day,  he  referred  to  those  old  school-days,  and 
expressed  much  gratitude  that  he  had  escaped 
the  dreadful  end  to  which  he  was  hastening. 
He  has  a  large  family  of  children  and  is,  no 
doubt,  trying  to  lead  them  in  the  path  of  virtue, 
temperance  and  truth."  "But  where  is  the 
other  man  that  swore  and  danced  so?"  "Oh, 


202  LIFE    AND   WRITINGS    OF 

my  son,  his  end  was  a  dreadful  one  !  He  had  a 
good  mother  and  some  very  lovely  sisters  ;  but 
he  made  their  hearts  bleed  by  his  reckless  and 
wicked  course.  He  ran  down  hill  very  fast ; 
he  became  worse  and  worse  until  he  was  a 
burden  and  pest  to  himself  and  his  family,  the 
dread  and  scourge  of  the  neighborhood,  until 
he  died  of  delirium  tremens."  "  Devil' 's  trem- 
bles!" repeated  the  little  boy  in  a  husky, 
chocking  voice  ;  "  what  is  that,  father  ?  "  "  Yes, 
Devil's  trembles,  you  may  well  call  it,  my  son, 
for  the  brain  and  the  whole  system  becomes  so 
inflamed  by  rum,  that  the  poor,  miserable  man 
thinks  he  has  a  host  of  little  demons  with 
frightful  horns  and  fiery  eyes  and  tongues  leap- 
ing at  him,  ready  to  devour  him.  It  is  a  sick- 
ness too  horrible  to  describe  to  little  boys  like 
you.  All  is,  my  little  sons  must  never  be 
persuaded  to  touch  any  kind  of  strong  drink, 
not  even  cider.  There,  my  little  men,  don't 
look  so  frightened ;  nothing  of  this  kind  will 
ever  hurt  you  if  you  drink  nothing  but  pure 
cold  water.  This  will  make  your  head  clear 
and  strong,  your  steps  firm,  and  you  will  move 
straight  onward  to  a  pure,  noble,  happy  man- 
hood." 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  203 


f  HE  LITTLE  TEETOTALLER. 

"O  mother,"  said  little  Ausel,  running  in 
from  the  street,  "  George  says  there  will  be  a 
temperance  lecture  down  to  our  school-house 
to-night.  I  want  to  go.  Shall  I,  ma?  You 
will  let  me,  ma,  won't  3-011?"  "We  will  see 
about  it,  son."  "  He  is  going  to  have  a  paper, 
too,  for  everybody  to  sign  their  names  cause 
they  never  will  drink ;  that  makes  them  tem- 
perance folks.  Now,  I  shall  go  straight  up  and 
tell  him  my  name  is  Ansel  Hayes,  and  he  may 
write  it  down  ;  now  shall  I,  ma?"  "Well,  my 
son,"  said  the  mother,  scarcely  suppressing  a 
smile  at  the  new  zeal  of  her  little  boy,  "perhaps 
you  had  better  wait  until  you  can  write  your 
name  yourself,  don't  you  think  so?"  "But, 
mother,"  said  the  boy,  looking  a  world  of  alarm, 
"I  shall  drink  cider  as  sure  as  the  world." 

That  is  it,  little  lads,  the  drinks  of  cider  is 
just  the  stuff  to  make  drunkards  of.  Drink  the 
clear,  cold,  sparkling  water,  and  nothing  else; 
then  you  will  not  want  to  run  up  to  Farmer 
Jones'  for  a  drink  of  cider ;  you  will  not  be 
tempted  to  stop  by  the  little  shops  where  ale 
and  all  kinds  of  drink  are  for  sale.  No  sir, 
says  your  brave  heart,  right  straight  on  is  the 
word  for  me.  No  swaggering  steps,  no  firey 


204  LIFE   AJVI)   WHITINGS    OF 

eyes,  DO  nasal  blossom,  no  swimming  brain,  no 
shamed,  skulking  face  for  me.  • 

We  feel  the  strength  cold  water  brings, 
And  that's  the  drink  for  rne. 


IN  MEMORY  OF  MISS  EMMA  BROOKINGS, 
A  HIGHLY  ESTEEMED  MEMBER  OF  LEBANON  ACADEMY,  VTHO 

DIED    AT   HEB    HOME    IN    PlTTSTOX,   MAY    llth,    1859. 

Rtsptctfully  inscribtd  to  Mr.  Wm.  T.  Chase,  by  C.  B.  CowtlL 

The  sun  was  slowing  sinking, 

And  his  parting  raj- 
Stole  along  the  still  apartment, 

"Where  pale  Emma  lay  — 
All  calmly  ebbs  life's  current, 

Fainter  comes  each  breath, 
One  low  sigh  —  one  gentle  quiver — 

She  is  thine  — O  Death  t 

CHOBCS. —  Sweet  zephyrs — rolling  waters 

Murmur  soft  and  low, 
Earth's  most  tender  ties  are  breaking, 
Hearts  are  bleeding  now. 

Slow  o'er  the  river  pealing 

Came  the  funeral  knell, 
(Oh,  what  tales  of  woe  thon  tellest, 

Tolling,  tolling  bell,) 
While  to  its  solemn  measure, 

With  a  pensive  tread, 
To  the  quiet,  grassy  hillside, 

Bear  we  on  the  dead. 

CHOKUS. —  Sweet  zephyrs  —  rolling  waters 

Murmur  soft  and  low, 
For  ye  touch  a  chord  that  wakens 
Saddest  nieua'nes  now. 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   Ii.    COWELI,.  205 

Beside  the  flowing  river, 
'  Sweetly  will  she  rest, 
With  her  hands  all  meekly  folded 

On  her  quiet  breast. 
The  birds  now  chant  their  requiems, 

Dewy  morning  weeps, 
And  the  watch-stars  keep  sad  vigila 

Where  dear  Einma  sleeps. 
CHORUS. —  Sweet  zephyrs  —  rolling  waters,  &c. 

Roll  on  thy  restless  waters, 

Noble  Kennebec, 
Never  can  thy  rushing  murmur 

Her  deep  slumbers  break. 
No  more  at  holy  twilight, 

'Long  thy  banks  she'll  stray, 
Blending  with  thy  deep-toned  music 

Her  sweet  vesper  lay. 
CHORUS. —  Sweet  zephyrs  —  rolling  waters,  &c. 

How  heavy  o'er  the  household 

Hangs  the  darksome  pall, 
Whence  has  flown  that  joyous  spirit, 

Once  the  light  of  all. 
O  dread  and  swift-winged  archer, 

Cruel  was  that  dart 
Wounding  'fresh  the  bleeding  tendrils 

Of  each  loving  heart. 
CHORUS. —  Sweet  zephyrs  —  rolling  waters,  &c. 

A  glooin  steals  o'er  the  school-room 

Where  the  hopeful  meet, 
Mem'ry  broods,  with  drooping  pinions, 

O'er  her  vacant  seat. 
Her  voice  in  plaintive  echoes, 

Lang' ring  sweetly  yet, 
Wakes  there  in  many  a  bosom 

Tenderest  regret. 
CHORUS. —  Sweet  zephyrs  —  rolling  waters,  &c. 


20 G  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

Oh,  why  should  such  rare  flowers, 

Fairest  of  earth's  bloom , 
Be  the  first  to  yield  their  fragrance 

To  the  cold,  dark  tomb  ? 
Alas,  that  from  our  pathway 

Fades  so  soon  the  light 
Of  that  beauteous  star,  whose  setting 

Brings  the  deepest  night. 

CHORUS. —  Sweet  zephyrs  —  rolling  waters,  &c. 

List  —  through  the  deepening  shadows 

Steals  a  hallowed  strain, 
Angel  Hope  comes  softly  breathing, 

Ye  shall  meet  again, 
In  yonder  glorious  mansion, 

Lo,  thy  loved  hath  rest, 
And  her  spotless  wings  are  folded 

On  her  Saviour's  breast. 

CHORUS. —  Sweet  zephyrs  —  rolling  waters 

Murmur  soft  and  low. 
For  a  calm  and  holy  feeling, 
Stealeth  o'er  us  now, 

Oh,  yes,  we  see  the  gleaming 

Of  her  angel  wings, 
Now  we  catch  the  distant  music 

Of  the  song  she  sings. 
Yes,  we  are  coming,  dearest, 

See  —  we  near  the  shore, 
Death's  cold  waves  shall  roll  beneath  us 

Never  —  never  more. 

CHORUS. —  Sweet  zeyphrs  —  rolling  waters,  &c. 
West  Lebanon,  Me, 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  207 


ANGEL  CARRIE. 

I  want  to  be  an  nngel, 
And  with  the  angels  stand, 

sang  two  little  sisters  as  they  were  slowly  pass- 
ing to  their  home  on  their  way  from  school. 
Some  one  passing  by  attracted  by  their  sweet 
voices  and  very  happy  faces,  was  listening. 
The  older  sister,  six  years  of  age,  looking  up 
and  recognizing  a  kind  neighbor,  said,  "I  do 
want  to  be  an  angel.  Oh,  it  will  be  so  bright 
in  heaven  with  the  angels  ! "  These  two  sisters 
were  not  unfrequently  invited  -to  walk  out  on 
the  stage  in  their  school  room  to. sing  together ; 
the  younger  one  was  nearly  five.  The  almost 
unearthly  beauty  of  expression  upon  their  baby 
faces  added  to  the  all-absorbing  rapture  with 
which  their  holy  songs  trilled  upon  the  heart  and 
ear,  often  drawing  tears  of  nameless  emotion 
from  the  listener.  Their  hearts  seemed  in  per- 
fect unison  with  the  pure  spirit  and  inspiration 
of  the  songs  they  snug.  These  singularly 
pious  children  who  seemed  to  belong  to  heaven 
rather  than  earth,  were  daughters  of  mute 
parents.  Every  mdrning  they  had  been  taught 
to  kneel  and  repeat  a  prayer  that  an  older  sister 
had  taught  them.  When  gathered  around  the 
family  board,  each  child  would  fold  its  hands 


208  LIFE    AND    WHITINGS    OF 

in  silent  reverence,  while  the  father  by  silent 
signs  invoked  a  blessing.  When  evening  came, 
the  mother  got  the  little  ones  around  her  and 
inquired  of  each  if  they  had  done  anything 
wrong.  If  the  conscience  is  burdened  with 
some  little  wicked  act,  the  little  face  is  covered 
with  the  hands  and  the  child  weeps.  The 
mother  solemnly  impresses  upon  the  heart  the 
sin  of  offending  a  Holy  God,  whose  eye  has 
been  upon  them  all  the  day.  The  little  peni- 
tent falls  on  its  knees  and  asks  God  to  forgive, 
then,  with  its  usual  night  prayer  and  mother's 
good  night  kiss,  it  is  taken  to  its  bed.  There 
may  be  no  difference  to  the  observer  in  these 
two  saint-like  little  girls ;  but  as  Carrie,  the 
older,  has  finished  her  angel  mission  on  earth, 
it  will  be  pleasant  to  contemplate  her  short  but 
radiant  path.  The  mother  was  asked  how  early 
did  Carrie  give  evidence  to  this  love  of  divine 
things.  She  wrote  in  reply,  "She  has  seemed 
to  love  them  ever  since  she  could  understand  ; 
very  often  would  come  to  me  and  ask  me  to  tell 
her  about  God  and  her  dear  Saviour,  which  I 
always  attempted,  the  best  I  could,  to  make 
her  infant  mind  understand.  She  was  always 
very  conscientious  —  very  afraid  of  doing  some- 
thing to  displease  God.  She  seemed,  to  many, 
to  have  been  sanctified  from  her  birth.  She 
often  said  she  should  soon  die.  One  day," 


MI1S.    rinilSTIAXA    B.    COWELL.  209 

writes  the  mother,  "I  met  her  in  the  dining- 
room  ;  she  stopped  me,  and  dropping  her  cheek 
upon  her  hand,  indicated  by  signs  that  when  she 
died  and  her  head  was  laid  on  the  pillow  of 
earth,  she  wished  to  lie  down  by  the  side  of  her 
baby  brother  Charlie."  The  mother  naturally 
saddened  by  this  singular  request  of  so  young  a 
child,  made  no  reply.  Carrie  still  held  her 
dress  and  .looked  earnestly  in  her  face  for  a  re- 
ply, and  when  the  mother  at  last  promised  it 
should  be  so,  her  face  was  again  all  aglow  with 
smiles  and  joy.  About  two  weeks  before  her 
death,  she  came  to  her  mother  one  Sabbath  even- 
ing, and  asked  her  to  read  to  her  the  23d 
Psalm.  The  mother  took  her  on  her  knee,  and 
began  reading  by  signs.  She  smiled  assent  that 
she  understood,  and  seemed  to  enjoy  it  until  she 
came  to  the  fourth  verse,  then  as  her  mother 
read,  "Though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death,"  tears  came  in  the  eyes  of  little 
Carrie,  and  she  made  signs  by  raising  both  hands, 
and  with  a  sudden  shrinking  and  shiver  said  she 
was  afraid,  and  slowly  slid  from  her  mother's 
arms,  and  kneeling  down,  bowed  her  head  on 
her  little  hand  in  her  mother's  lap.  In  a  few 
moments  she  arose  with  a  heavenly  smile  beam- 
ing through  her  tears,  and  said,  "I  am  not 
afraid  now,  I  love  Jesus."  She  asked  her 
mother  to  take  her  up  and  read  the  Psalm  again. 


210  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

She  seemed  perfectly  delighted  as  the  mother 
again  portrayed  in  her  silent,  devout  language, 
the  care  and  love  of  the  Heavenly  Shepherd. 
From  an  older  sister,  Bell,  we  learn  that  Carrie 
was  every  day  chanting  this  Psalm,  and  she  was 
often  seen  by  her  mother  reading  it  alone. 
There  was  no  earthly  car  to  hear  that  prayer, 
yet  it  had  a  quick  answer  from  the  blessed 
Saviour ;  her  heart  was  quiet  from  tfcie  fear  of 
evil,  and  even  joyous  with  divine  love.  It  was 
quite  common  for  persons  who  had  observed 
her  unusual  love  for  holy  things,  to  take  her  in 
her  arms  and  to  draw  out  her  touching  and 
beautiful  thoughts,  by  questions.  A  great  de- 
sire to  be  in  Heaven  seemed  always  predomi- 
nant. Her  school  teacher  was  struck  with  her 
fear  of  doing  wrong  and  displeasing  God.  One 
day  she  came  running  home  from  school,  look-, 
ing  veiy  pale,  saying  she  was  sick.  Her  mother 
quickly  perceived  the  symptoms  of  scarlet  fever, 
and  told  her  that  God  made  her  sick  and  He 
loved  her.  "  I  know  it,"  she  said  with  great 
earnestness,  as  if  surprised  that  her  mother 
should  tell  her  what  she  knew  so  well.  When 
her  father  came  in  the  house  she  was  lying  on 
the  sofa  ;  she  waved  her  hand  to  attract  his  at- 
tention, then  told  him  that  God  made  her  sick, 
and  she  loved  God.  Her  father  was  surprised 
at  her  eagerness  to  dispel  any  anxiety  he  felt ; 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  211 

she  was  sure  all  was  right.  Two  days  and 
nights  the  fever  raged  fiercely,  and  her  distress 
was  very  great ;  after  which  her  mind  was  again 
calm,  and  her  face  shone  with  heavenly  radiance. 
She  called  her  brother  and  sister  to  her  bed- 
side, and  wished  them  to  sing,  "I  want  to  be 
an  angel."  Carrie  snug  with  them  a  few  lines, 
but  her  throat  was  sore  and  she  could  not  go  on. 
When  some  mute  neighbors  came  in,  she  point- 
ed up,  and  made  signs  that  angels  were  around 
her,  and  extending  both  arms  with  an  affection- 
ate embrace,  she  said,  "How  bright  and  beau- 
tiful, and  she  longed  to  take  them  in  her  arms." 
Her  sister,  ten  years  old,  came  in,  who  could 
hear,  and  she  told  her  the  same.  The  follow- 
ing evening  her  father  was  sitting  by  her,  and 
observing  a  peculiar  calm  upon  her  face,  asked 
her  if  she  loved  God.  "Oh,  yes,"  was  the 
quick  reply. 

Fearing  that  she  might  not  understand  his 
signs,  he  asked  if  she  knew  her  father?  she 
quickly  nodded  yes,  then  threw  out  both  arms 
and  put  out  her  lips  to  embrace  and  kiss  him  ; 
and  then  with  her  little  fingers  stiffening  in 
death,  she  spelt  "  house,"  then  indicated  she 
longed  for  the  house.  Her  father,  fearing  she 
was  delirious,  said,  "here  is  our  house  where 
you  live."  "Oh,  no,  not  this"  —  shaking  her 
head,  with  an  attempted  curl  of  her  lip,  she 


212  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

expressed  how  poor  is  this  compared  to  the 
house  she  desired  and  longed  to  go  into. 
He  then  understood  she  was  beholding  her 
glorious  house  on  high,  whose  builder  is  God. 
Several  times  she  raised  her  hands,  trying  to 
express  the  glory  of  the  home  she  desired, 
saying  she  did  not  wish  to  stay  here  ;  but  her 
arms  and  hands  were  too  stilT  and  weak  ;  and 
no  hearing  one  was  present  to  catch  the  words 
she  would,  perhaps,  have  uttered.  Soon  her 
mother  came  in  with  little  Emma,  who  had  been 
always  by  her  side  through  their  short,  happy 
life.  She  wished  Emma  to  sing,  and  Emma 
began,  "I  want  to  be  an  angel,"  after  which 
Carrie  repeated,  "I  want  to  be  an  angel,"  and 
soon  after,  with  a  glow  of  divine  light  shining 
upon  her  marble  face,  expired.  The  mother 
looked  a  moment  upon  the  fallen  chin,  the 
upturned,  vacant  gaze,  and  when  she  knew  she 
was  gone,  fainted.  Yet  she  said,  "When  I 
came  to  myself,  I  felt  an  indwelling  peace, — 
All  was  well  with  the  child  ;  and  my  thoughts 
were  lifted  to  Heaven  more  than  fora  long  time, 
so  much  so,  that  I  felt  it  was  good  for  me  to  bo 
afflicted.  She  was  the  light  and  joy  of  our 
household,  and  since  her  death  we  have  felt  so 
desolate  yet  peaceful.  She  is  now  with  her 
Saviour,  with  a  crown  upon  her  head,  and  a  harp 
in  her  hand,  for  which  she  has  wished  so  Ions:." 


n.  co\V£LL.         213 


TEMPERANCE  DIALOGUE. 

FIRST    SCENE. 

Father  Lincoln,  sitting  dozing  from  e fleet  of 
drink;  two  twin  boys,  sitting  on  either  side 
of  their  father  ;  eldest  sister,  sitting  with  a 
book,  trying  to  read,  but  very  sad. 

Enter  Katy,  a  younger  sister. 

M"r>/.  O  sister,  I  am  so  glad  you  have  re- 
turned, I  am  so  sad  and  lonely  when  you  are 
away. 

Katy.     I  fear  you  are  sick,  Mary. 

Mftry.  Well,  to-night  the  drear  reality  of 
our  wretchedness  has  pressed  itself  so  heavily 
upon  my  spirits,  my  heart  has  sunk,  utterly 
crushed,  crushed,  —  our  prospects  are  so  dark. 
Ob,  dear!  But  did  you  hear  anything  of  our 
poor,  wandering  brother ;  I  imagine  I  hear  his 
groans  of  distress  on  every  wind  that  sweeps 
around  the  cottage.  Poor  John  —  I  fear  he 
will  never  return. 

Kattj.  No,  I  cannot  learn  that  he  has  been 
seen  since  yesterday,  when  he  was  going 
towards  the  village.  But  don't  grieve  so,  Mary. 
I  called  at  Mrs.  Smith's,  hoping  to  get  some 
sewing;  she  had  none  prepared.  She  thought 
she  and  Mrs.  Riley  would  call  over  to-night, 


214  Lifti  AND  WRITINGS  01 

and  perhaps  take  some  of  us.  If  we  fail  to  get 
work  in  this  place,  you  will  consent  to  let  me 
go  to  Manchester  with  sister  Clara.  There  wo 
can  do  much  more  to  cheer  our  home  than  here* 
Oh.  I  shall  allow  myself  almost  nothing,  that  I 
may  send  you  all  that  I  can  earn,  to  help  you 
through  the  winter ;  I  think  I  had  better  go. 

Mary.  O  Katy,  I  shall  cry  all  the  time 
when  you  are  gone  ;  who  will  sing  to  us  when 
it  is  dark,  and  pa  don't  come? 

Charley.  And  who  will  fix  us  for  school, 
when  Mary  has  ao  much  to  do,  and  who  will 
comfort  us  when  papa  beats  us  and  Mary  cries  ? 

j^Iary.  I  know  a  long,  cold  winter  is  just 
upon  us,  and  this  old  house,  poor  as  it  is, 
shelters  us,  but  is  not  ours ;  and  six  mouths' 
rent  is  unpaid  ;  I  know  that  father  and  John 
are  becoming  every  day  more  unkind  to  us, 
and  have  long  ceased  to  bring  us  food  ;  they 
come  from  Kilby's  tavern,  and  scold  us  because 
we  have  not  such  good,  warm  suppers  as  we 
used  to  have.  I  know,  too,  that  friends  have 
changed.  Those  who  seemed  to  love  us  when 
we  were  at  school,  and  father  was  an  active 
merchant,  and  mother  wras  here,  now  pass 
hastily  by  our  cottage,  just  as  though  they 
feared  we  should  speak  to  then.  I. know  we 
are  forsaken  and  despised.  But  when  you  are 
here,  Katy,  your  kind,  cheerful  manner  sus- 


MltS.    CIIKISTIANA   B.    COWELL.  215 

tains  my  sensitive  heart.  Your  sympathy  opens 
its  deep  fountain  of  grief  and  its  flows  out; 
but  when  you  arc  gone,  I  feel  that  my  heart 
will  break,  to  be  alone  in  this  desolate,  altered 
home.  I  know  that  I  ought  not  to  mourn  so, 
it  makes  you  so  sad. 

Billy.  We  shall  be  here,  sister,  and  you 
know  we  shall  be  so  good  to  you,  and  try  to 
make  you  happy. 

Kttty.  Dear  boys  —  what  will  become  of 
you. 

Enter  Jenks. 

Jenks.  Good  evening,  girls  —  your  father 
ut  home? 

Katy.  He  sits  there,  I  think  it  will  be  of 
no  use  to  arouse  him,  he  is  not  himself  now ; 
he  seems  to  sleep. 

Jenks.  Umph  !  More  himself  than  anybody 
else,  as  I  take  it.  Hullo,  Mr.  Lincoln,  you 
dozy  ? 

Lincoln.     "What's  that  you  say  —  John  come  ? 

Jenk*.     Have  you  got  some  money  for  me? 

Lincoln.  Honey  —  did  you  say?  I  rather 
have  some  cider.  John  promised  to  bring 
some. 

•l>  ///.-x.  Cider  -  \vejl  this  don't  look  like 
paying  rent,  I'm  thinking.  [  have  called  to  let 
you  know,  that  another  family,  who  will  pay 
rent,  wish  to  occupy  I  his  house,  and  if  you 
don't  pay  up  immediately  you  must  — 


LIFJEAND   WHITINGS   OF 


Billy.  Don't  say  wo  must  go  out  door  this 
cold  winter. 

Mary.  O  Mr.  Jenks,  must  we  hear  you  say 
we  —  - 

Jenks.  There's  no  use  of  crying  now.  A 
man  must  look  after  his  rent  these  hard  times. 
There  are  enough  of  these  idle  dogs  to  loaf 
about  the  rum  taverns  if  others  will  support 
them.  I  am  not  the  man  to  do  it. 

Mary.  Pray  Mr.  Jenks,  for  our  dear  little 
brothers'  sakes  wait  for  us  a  little  longer. 

Katy.  We  will  do  all  we  ean  —  I  will  sit  up 
half  of  the  night,  will  eat  but  one  meal  a  day, 
until  you  are  paid,  if  you  will  let  us  call  this 
our  home. 

Charley.  And  I  will  come  and  cut  wood 
and  do  many  things  for  you  when  I  am  large 
enough. 

Billy.  I  will  work  in  your  garden  ;  I  think 
I  can  dig  and  pull  weeds  next  summer  for  you. 

Mary.  You  cannot  turn  us  out  into  this 
cold-hearted  world,  we  can  find  no  other  shelter  ; 
your  heart  will  revolt,  you  will  not,  Mr.  Jenks  ; 
say  you  will  wait  ! 

Jenks.  Why  don't  you  put  these  boys  out 
to  live.  Let  your  miserable  father  and  brother 
go  to  the  house  of  correction,  where  they 
belong  ;  why  do  you  try  to  live  here  at  this 
hard  rate  ? 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL,  217 

Mary.  Ah !  you  would  not  speak  thus,  if 
you  knew  the  depth  of  daughter's  and  sister's 
Jove ;  your  words  wring  our  poor  hearts. 
'"While  there  is  life,  there  is  hope."  Is  it  not 
possible  by  our  patient  endurance  and  kindness, 
we  may  yet  win  back  to  the  path  of  peace,  a 
noble  brother  and  kind  father?  O  Mr.  Jenks, 
you  know  what  they  have  been  ;  you  remember, 
too,  how  in  a  state  of  partial  intoxication  he 
sold  to  you  and  Mr,  Kilby,  his  estate,  far,  far 
less  than  its  value,  that  he  might  get  money, 
by  which  he  has  gone  downward  continually. 
And  that  dear  pale  face,  our  mother,  who 
moved  among  us  like  a  shadow,  meekly  toiling 
for  those,  whom  with  all  their  faults  she  still 
loved,  and  for  these  tender  boys,  till  nature 
sank  and  she  was  gone.  Can  we, —  tell  us,  let 
your  heart  tell  us,— can  we  turn  our  backs 
upon  these,  and  break  the  tie  that  binds  us  to 
our  dear,  though  altered  home  ? 

Jenks*  Well  —  well  —  I  wish  there  was  no 
rum  to  be  had ;  take  rum  and  cider  away,  and 
you  would  have  a  father  to  be  proud  of.  I 
know  that  very  well,  although  I  like  a  little 
occasionally  ;  yet  when  I  see  what  it  has  done 
in  the  world,  I  do  say,  I  wish  it  was  all  in  the 
sea.  Fact  is,  I  can't  help  pitying  such  girls  as 
you,  that  have  to  suffer  so  much  from  it.  But 
this  is  not  doing  my  business,  and  I  guess  I 

10 


218  LIFE    AND   WRITINGS   OF 

will   see   to  that  some  other  time, —  so  good 
evening. 

Lincoln  (rouses  up).  Who'se there?  What, 
John  come?  got  something  to  drink,  John? 
Oh,  somebody  else —  bother  to  rnm. 

Enter  Mrs.  Smith  and  Mrs.  Riley. 

Good  evening,  girls,  good  evening. 

Mrs.  Smith.  I  have  taken  a  small  bundle 
of  sewing  for  you,  as  you  wished;  but  I  shall 
not  be  able  to  pay  you  the  money  as  soon  as 
you  desired.  Mr.  Smith  says  your  family  is 
owing  him  for  a  barrel  of  cider,  a  little  brandy, 
and  other  articles,  and  I  may  get  you  to  sew 
towards  paying  for  it,  as  he  can  get  nothing  of 
your  men. 

Katy.  This  indeed  is  a  painful  message  at 
this  most  distressing  hour.  Just  think  what 
that  cider  has  done  for  us.  When  my  father 
commenced  on  that  cider,  he  was  a  man,  and 
brought  the  most  of  his  wages  to  his  family ; 
when  he  had  drank  it  all,  he  was  a  demon, 
raving  for  more,  and  has  spent  the  most  of  his 
days  at  the  tavern  since.  But  I  need  not 
dwell  on  this,  you  cannot  feel  for  us. 

Mrs.  Smith.  Well,  I  told  my  husband  that 
you  would  give  us  a  lecture  on  temperance  if 
we  mentioned  the  cider.  He  said  we  must  not 
mind  that.  If  he  hud  not  sold  to  your  father, 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA  B.    COWELL.  219 

others  would,  and  my  husband  must  do  some- 
thing for  his  family's  support. 

Jfrtry.  Is  there  then  no  conscience  in  this 
matter?  can  he  thus  push  his  victims  down  to 
ruin,  and  sustain  his  family  with  the  price  of 
blood,  and  tears,  yes,  of  immortal  souls,  and 
feel  no  horror?  Nothing1  to  disturb  the  slum- 
bers of  his  night?  He  may,  but  I  hope  you 
never  will  know  how  to  sympathize  with  us. 

Mrs.  /Smith.  I  have  not  called  to  talk  about 
that  now.  My  husband  says  you  have  some 
furniture  and  books  he  will  be  obliged  to  take 
for  your  debt  if  it  is  not  paid  soon.  He  has 
left  off  selling  spirits  and  wants  to  collect  what 
is  due  on  old  accounts. 

Charley.  You  won't  take  our  little  bed,  Avill 
you? 

Katy.  What  made  your  husband  leave  sell- 
ing spirit? 

Mrs.  Smith.  Can't  tell  you  exactly  ;  a  partic- 
ular friend  of  his  said  there  was  something  new 
coming  up  among  the  hot-brained  temperance 
men  down  to  Augusta,  and  to  get  off  easy,  he 
had  better  quit  at  once.  • 

Katy.  What  can  it  be  ?  Oh!  Is  there  not 
some  good  coming? 


tiinith.  Don't  know  anything  more 
about  it.  Mr.  Smith  was  quite  fretty  ;  wished 
people  might  act  their  own  principles. 


220  LIFE  AND  WRITINGS   OF 

Lincoln.  I  say  that — let  folks  have  their 
liberty  ;  I  shall,  I  know. 

Mrs.  tfmith.  But  we  must  hasten.  Mrs. 
Hiley,  do  you  think  of  taking  one  of  these  boys? 

Mrs.  Rileij.  I  suppose,  as  you  have  so  hard 
a  chance  to  provide  for  your  brothers,  you  would 
like  to  let  Billy  come  and  live  with  us.  AVe 
shall  take  good  care  of  him. 

Billy.  O  sister,  don't  let  me  go  to  Mr.  Ri ley's. 
I  heard  him  swear  the  other  day,  and  talk  just 
as  pa  does  when  he  comes  home  from  the  tav- 
ern. You  know  I  must  not  go  with  those  who 
say  bad  words. 

Mary.  We  arc  urged  by  every  circumstance, 
the  most  distressing  possible,  to  accept  your  kind 
ofler  to  take  to  your  home  of  abundance  one  of 
these  dear  brothers  ;  but  there  is  one  thing  which 
I  wish  to  tell  you,  and  it  is  the  last  counsel  of 
our  dying  mother.  One  night,  her  last  on  earth, 
when  Billy  and  Charley  were  ready  for  bed,  she 
asked  to  have  them  sny  their  prayers  with  her, 
that  she  might  hear  their  sweet  voices  once  more, 
and  give  them  up  to  their  Father  in  heaven.  Ah, 
she  well  knew  that  their  earthly  father  had  long 
since  forsaken  them.  After  they  had  bowed 
their  heads  by  her  bedside,  and  repeated  the 
prayer  she  had  learned  them,  she  turned  her 
dying  eyes  to  us  girls,  with  a  look  we  can  never 
forget.  "Children,"  said  she,  "these  minds  I 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  221 

leave  in  your  hands,  to  train.  Watch  over 
them  and  the  influences  they  are  exposed  to. 
If  possible,  keep  them  with  you  ;  but  if  you  are 
at  last  compelled  to  put  them  out  to  live,  oh,  be 
careful  to  let  them  go  to  none  but  temperate 
families.  Will  you  promise  this  one  thing?" 

Mrs.  Riley.  You  of  course  promised.  I  am 
sorry  to  say  my  husband  thinks  it  no  harm  to 
drink  cider,  and  stronger  drinks  at  times.  He 
thinks,  however,  he  is  a  temperate  man. 

Lincoln.     Yes,  he  is  ;  and  so  am  I.     We  are 
good  temperance  men  —  who  dares  dispute  it? 
J/rs.  Riley.     He  was  pleased  with  Billy  — 
thought  he  would  like  to  take  him ;  but  did  not 
think  of  this  objection. 

Lincoln.  Yes,  let  him  go,  girls  ;  what  good 
will  he  do  you  ? 

J//-.S.  Smith.  You  know  this  community  is 
not  very  strict  about  these  things.  I  think  you 
will  hardly  find  such  a  place  for  the  boys  as  you 
would  like. 

Katy.  Better  then  that  we  all  stay  here  ; 
and  if  we  perish,  it  will  be  in  discharge  of  a 
conscientious  duty.  Our  cup  of  bitterness  is 
indeed  full.  One  sweet  drop  is  in  it  still  —  a 
good  conscience. 

JitUy.  If  I  was  a  man,  I  think  I  should  like 
to  have  good  meetings,  and  talk  to  people  about 
temperance,  just  as  sisters  talk  to  us,  when  they 
sit  here  sewing  in  the  evening. 


222  LIFE    AND   WRITINGS    OF 

Charley.  I  got  little  George  and  Dick  Grey 
to  promise  me  not  to  drink  one  drop  of  their 
pa's  cider.  Won't  they  grow  up  temperance 
men,  sisters? 

Mary.  I  think  they  will,  my  darling.  I  am 
glad  you  are  trying  Jo  do  good  so  early  ;  that  is 
the  way  to  be  happy. 

Katy.  I  cannot  help  hoping  the  day  will 
come,  when  this  subject  will  be  more  consid- 
ered, and  the  evil  removed. 

Mrs.  Riley.  I  am  very  sure  Mr.  Riley  would 
not  drink  so  much  if  it  was  not  in  his  sight.  He 
says  he  knows  he  is  better  without  it,  and  thinks 
every  one  is ;  but  when  he  meets  others,  and  is 
urged  to  join  them  in  drinking,  he  cannot  refuse, 
lest  he  should  he  laughed  at.  I  dare  say  he 
would  not  be  sorry  if  spirit  was  out  of  the  reach 
of  all.  I  know  we  should  have  a  very  different, 
yes,  a  better  community. 

Mary.  Just  think,  ladies,  of  the  evil  it  is 
doing  in  this  town.  The  families  (you  know 
them,  and  I  too,  and  to  their  sorrow,)  kept 
poor  and  degraded,  without  the  means  of  moral 
and  religious  improvement, —  wives  and  chil- 
dren suffering,  Heaven  alone  knows  how  much. 
There  are  young  men  that  pass  well  for  fine 
moral  gentlemen,  when  they  are  out  of  town 
and  think  they  are  not  known,  will  indulge  in 
the  social  glass.  Oh,  rny  heart  bleeds  when  I 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   B.    COWELL.  223 

think  of  the  tender  sisters  whose  hearts  may  yet 
be  wrung  as  ours  have  been,  at  the  fall  of  the 
best  of  brothers  !  We  know  that  they  secretly 
but  surely  are  passing  downward  the  same  road 
to  ruin  as  others  who  now  seem  lost  to  all  that 
is  good  and  pure.  You  wonder  why  we  speak 
so  plain.  John  has  often  alluded  to  these  well 
applauded  young  men  (temperate,  to  be  sure, 
they  call  themselves,)  who  have  joined  him  in 
sipping  the  fatal  poison,  instead  of  taking  him 
by  the  hand,  and  by  word  and  example,  leading 
him  away  from  temptation  ;  are  not  such  in  great 
danger  ?  * 

-3/y-.s\  Smith.  There  is  young  Mr.  Appleton, 
whose  addresses  they  say  you  refused,  Miss 
Mary,  some  time  ago,  just  because  he  was  not 
a  true  teetotaler.  He  has  just  returned  from 
California,  very  wealthy,  and  purchased  that 
elegant  stand  in  Pleasant  Vale.  I  heard  brother 
say  he  still  preferred  you  to  any  other,  and 
thought  you  would  not  refuse  such  an  offer  if 
you  could  have  it  now. 

Katy.  Did  you  say  he  was  an  exception  to 
the  general  laxity  of  temperance  principles  in 
this  place? 

J//>-.  Smith.  Why,  I  understand  he  won't 
sign  a  pledge,  it  looks  so  much  as  though  one 
could  not  govern  themselves  ;  he  don't  want  to 
be  bound. 


224  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS   OF 

Lincoln.  That's  it  —  he's  the  man  I  like  for 
that. 

Mrs.  Smith.  Of  course,  if  he  now  conde- 
scends to  offer  himself  again  to  you  in  your 
present  situation,  it  bespeaks  an  interest  in 
yourself  you  cannot  refuse.  I  shall  expect  to 
see  you  leave  this  home  for  Pleasant  Vale. 

Mary.  Your  words  are  painful,  Mrs.  Smith. 
You  do  not  know  Mary  Lincoln.  Poverty  and 
distress  have  indeed  shaken  and  torn  this  poor 
heart,  worn  upon  my  health,  but  only  rooted 
deeper  my  principles.  I  cannot,  no,  I  never 
will"  marry  the  man  who  is  not  strictly  tem- 
perate. 

Lincoln.     Law  —  what  a  silly  fool  she  is. 

Mrs.  Smith.  Well,  you  are  a  strange  girl ; 
you  must  take  your  own  course.  I  will  take 
my  work  home  if  you  don't  like  to  take  it. 

Mrs.  Riley.  I  cannot  help  thinking  if  the 
men  who  do  the  business  of  the  town  and  State, 
had  the  interest  and  viewed  the  subject  as  these 
girls  do,  the  sale  of  spirits  might  be  suppressed, 

Mary.  O  Mrs.  Kiley  !  Many  long  nights 
when  I  could  not  sleep  for  fear  and  anxiety,  I 
have  thought  of  the  thousands  suffering  per- 
haps even  more  than  we,  and  if  I  could  exert 
any  influence  to  remove  the  great  curse,  I  could 
lay  my  life  upon  the  altar,  and  my  soul  could 
calmly  go  to  its  rest,  with  the  sweet  thought 
that  it  had  blessed  the  world. 


MKS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  225 

Mrs.  Riley.  I  feel  that  I  shall  talk  more 
earnestly  at  home  upon  this  subject,  and  labor 
for  reform,  especially  among  my  children.  I 
wonder  we  have  thought  so  little  about  it. 
Good  evening. 

Exit  Mrs.  Smith  and  Riley. 

Katy.  1  have  been  thinking  of  a  dream  I 
had  last  night,  while  you  have  been  talking  with 
these 'ladies.  It  left  a  pleasant  impression  on 
my  mind. 

Mary.  O  sister,  you  are  always  trying  to 
think  of  something  new  to  cheer  us  when  we 
are  ready  to  despond. 

Charley.  O  Katy,  will  you  please  tell  your 
dream  ? 

Katy.  I  thought  all  of  us  were  out  near  this 
house.  Father  and  John  were  leaning  against 
the  house  with  arms  folded,  all  covered  with 
dirt  and  rags.  "We  children  were  very  hungry, 
and  searching  for  bread  among  some  thorny 
bushes,  which  tore  and  wounded  our  flesh  great- 
ly. Suddenly  I  heard  a  great  sweeping,  like 
wings  in  the  air.  I  looked  up,  and  a  beautiful 
being  like  an  angel  was  hovering  over  the  heads 
of  father  and  John.  I  could  see  big  tears  run 
down  their  cheeks,  and  they  shone  in  the  moon- 
light like  silver  drops.  Then  this  angel  poured 
something  out  of  a  golden  vial  which  ran  all 


226  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

down  over  them,  until  their  garments  looked 
clean  and  white.  Then  there  was  a  clear  crys- 
tal brook  ran  from  their  feet  across  the  garden, 
among  the  thorny  bushes  until  they  were  loaded 
with  rich  ripe  fruit  so  they  bowed  down  with  its 
weight.  I  waked  so  happy.  I  longed  to  go  to 
sleep  and  drearn  it  again,  it  was  so  delightful. 

Mai^y.  Ah  !  our  mother's  prayers  are  bot- 
tled up. 

Katy.  And  will  they  not  be  poured  out  upon 
us,  and  father  and  John,  when  the  tears  of  re- 
pentance shall  unseal  them  ? 

Mary.  O  sister,  the  angel  of  hope  seems 
ever  whispering  to  you  of  a  brighter  future. 
You  are  like  a  star  at  midnight,  ever  hopeful. 
To  me,  it  is  indeed  the  midnight  of  gloom. 
There  is  but  one  thing  that  can  bring  us  joy  on 
earth  :  that  is,  the  reform  of  our  erring  ones ; 
with  that,  we  may  hope  for  all  of  earth  that  can 
make  life  happy  —  peace  and  plenty  to  flow  from 
their  footsteps  indeed.  I  fear  that  can  never 
be,  while  the  temptation  is  before  them.  You 
know  how  poor  mother  used  to  go  and  entreat 
Smith  and  Kilby  to  refuse  to  sell  that  which 
sent  misery  to  our  once  happy  home,  but  all  in 
vain  ;  they  loved  the  coppers  better  than  souls. 
There  is  but  one  alternative,  and  that  is,  the 
arm  of  our  government  with  its  boasted  laws  of 
justice  and  benevolence,  would  strike  a  blow 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  227 

that  would  make  a  thousand  hearts  leap  with 
joy  and  hope.  That  happy  day  must  be  far  in 
the  future,  too  far  for  us  to  enjoy.  I  need  not 
dwell  upon  it.  Hark  !  is  that  John's  step  ? 

Lincoln.  Did  you  say  he  had  come  —  John, 
that  you  —  Oh,  how  dry  I  am  —  no,  not  come 
yet. 

Katy.     It  is  Mr.  Appleton  and  his  sister. 

Mr.  Appleton.  Good  evening,  ladies.  (La- 
dies reply,  Good  evening. )  You  have  changed 
your  residence  since  I  left  town,  I  perceive  — 
thought  I  must  find  you. 

Katy.  Great  changes  indeed  —  with  us, 
most  especially.  Our  dear  mother  is  gone,  no 
longer  able  to  bear  the  sorrows  that  became 
her  lot.  John  you  would  not  know,  he  is  so 
altered ;  and  father  sits  there  very  dull  to- 
night. 

Miss  Appleton.  I  understand  he  treats  you 
very  unkindly.  I  often  think  of  you.  I  know 
how  happy  we  once  were  at  school  together. 

Alary.  \Ve  make  no  effort  to  hide  the 
tokens  of  our  wretchedness,  they  are  all  around 
us.  You  remember,  Mr.  Appleton,  the  last 
time  you  were  here,  after  a  long  conversation 
with  brother  John,  he  said  he  could  do  without 
spirits  and  would  sign  the  pledge  if  you  would. 
You  thought  it  folly  to  sign,  and  you  would  not 
gratify  certain  ones  so  much  who  had  been  so 


228  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS'   OF 

forward.  Oh,  sir,  I  think  then  you  might  have 
saved  him ;  he  has  gone  on  since,  swift  to 
degradation  ;  we  cannot  tell  you  how  much  we 
are  distressed. 

Miss  Appleton.  Pity  you  had  not,  brother, 
for  his  sisters'  sake ;  you  think  so  much  of 
them,  if  nothing  more. 

Katy.  You  know  that  father  and  John  are 
very  decided,  if  they  would  once  promise  us, 
we  know  it  would  be  done. 

Mr.  Appleton.  Why,  they  need  not  have 
gone  so  far ;  one  may  take  a  little  wine  out  on 
a  ride,  or  some  particular  occasion,  and  not 
injure  him.  There  is  no  need  of  drinking  like 
this.  If  some  of  our  good  farmers  drink  a 
little  cider  it  cannot  be  any  harm  —  where  they 
have  so  much. 

Lincoln.  That's  just  what  I  tell  um  —  that's 
my  mind  exactly. 

Katy.  Can  one  take  a  viper  to  his  bosom, 
and  not  be  bitten  ?  or  a  coal  of  fire,  and  not  be 
burned  ? 

Mary.  If  the  germ  of  the  upas  tree  be  seen 
just  starting  from  the  earth,  although  a  mere 
sprout,  is  it  not  the  upas  nevertheless?  If  it 
remain,  will  it  not  become  a  tree,  whose  blast- 
ing influence  destroys  every  thing  near  it? 
Would  it  not  be  much  easier  and  better  to  tear 
out  the  sprout,  than  the  strong,  and  deeply- 
rooted  tree  ? 


MRS.    CIimSTIAXA    B.    COWELL.  229 

Miss  Appleton.  I  think  with  yon,  ladies, 
that  intemperance  is  like  the  upas  tree,  poison- 
ing every  family,  and  every  community,  in 
which  it  has  a  place.  Brother  and  I  cannot 
see  alike  on  this  subject.  He  prides  himself, 
in  his  temperate  indulgence  in  wine,  as  he  calls 
it,  but  I  do  not,  I  cannot  surely. 

Mary.  Perhaps  he  thinks  we  are  too  earn- 
est. But  is  it  not  contrary  to  all  reason  and 
justice  that  such  destructive  influence  should  be 
permitted  its  unrestrained  ravages  among  us? 
Can  we  feel  its  scorpion  sting  piercing  our 
inmost  soul,  and  taking  by  slow,  sure  robbery 
our  dearest  joys,  and  still  be  silent?  No,  we 
must  speak  out  though  kings  were  here. 

Miss  Appleton.  Does  your  brother  follow 
any  employment  now  ? 

Katij.  Oh,  no  —  not  steadily  ;  he  has  for  a 
long  time  spent  all  he  earns  for  drink. 

Mary.  And  then  he  has  so  changed  in  his 
manner  towards  us.  I  dare  not  think  of  it.  It 
is  ours  to  endure  what  with  our  utmost  effort 
we  cannot  avoid  ;  yet  we  know  there  are  those 
who  can  do  something  toward  removing  this 
evil. 

Mr.  Appleton.  Well,  this  is  a  view  of  the 
subject  for  which  I  was  not  prepared.  I  have 
scarcely  thought  that  any  responsibility  for  this 
state  of  things  rests  on  me.  But  I  cannot  resist 


230  LIFE    AND    WHITINGS    OF 

your  words.  There  is  indeed  something  in  this. 
I  would  this  moment  give  half  the  gold  I  have 
risked  my  life  to  obtain,  if  I  could  go  back  to 
the  evening  to  which  you  refer,  and  atone  for 
the  evil  influence  I  now  see  I  have  exerted  over 
your  brother,  whom  I  loved  and  esteemed  in  our 
early  days,  as  one  of  the  most  talented  in  our 
town.  I  feel  that  1  was  wrong  in  neglecting  a 
good  deed,  for  motives  unworthy  a  man  such  as 
I  ought  to  be.  Will  you  now  accept  a  small 
sum  as  a  poor  recompense  for  your  sufferings  ? 
(Offering  a  purse.) 

Mary.  No,  Mr.  Appletou,  I  cannot,  without 
violating  a  principle  inseparable  from  my  very 
being.  No,  not  gold,  but  your  influence  I  im- 
plore, by  word,  and  more  by  example.  You 
say  you  have  wealth  :  this  renders  you  more 
efficient  to  the  overthrow  of  the  monster  that  is 
devouring  us. 

Miss  Appleton.  There  is  much  excitement 
in  other  places  on  this  subject.  I  think  I  read 
last  night  about  a  debate  in  the  Maine  Legisla- 
ture upon  a  motion  to  confine  the  sale  of  ardent 
spirits  wholly  to  agents  appointed  for  that  pur- 
pose. There  is  a  prospect  of  a  law  to  that  effect. 

Katy.  Are  you  sure?  We  might  almost 
hope  from  such  a  law  to  see  the  dead  raised  to 
life. 

Mary.  Don't  be  too  enthusiastic,  sister. 
This  is  most  too  good  to  hope  for. 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  231 

Katy.  Now,  don't  you  remcnibor  Mrs.  Smith 
spoke  of  this  ?  You  did  not  seein  to  notice  it. 
I  have  thought  much  of  it. 

Mary.  Yes,  sister  :  but  our  hopes  have  been 
so  often  dashed  to  the  earth  by  false  pretensions 
of  temperance  principles,  that  always  fail  in  the 
day  of  trial,  that  I  fear  to  trust.  If  our  young, 
yes,  and  our  old  men,  all,  would  do  what  they 
might,  and  were  not  afraid  to  cut  off  the  cider 
tap,  and  morning  dram,  and  would  stand  up, 
true,  noble,  Heaven-approved  temperance  men, 
I  know  the  thing  would  be  done.  A  whole- 
souled  effort  in  a  right  cause  must  and  will  pre- 
vail. 

Mr.  Appleton.  I  humbly  confess  a  guilty 
apathy  on  this  subject,  for  which  I  promise  to 
atone  by  unwearied  effort  to  encourage  and 
strengthen  the  public  sentiment  which  will  cher- 
ish and  sustain  such  a  law. 

Enter  Clara. 

"We  live  to  meet  again. 

Katy.  Why,  sister  Clara,  how  unexpectedly 
you  have  come  !  And  here.is  brother  John  — 
how  is  this  ? 

Clara.  Brother  John  sent  me  a  line  to  hurry 
home.  I  met  him  when  I  arrived  in  town,  wait- 
ing for  me. 

Mary.     We  will  all  listen  to  you,  John.     I 


232  LIFE    AND    WAITINGS    OF 

see  a  change  in  your  countenance,  if  my  heart 
don't  deceive  me,  a  good  one. 

John.  O  sisters,  dear,  injured  sisters,  I  know 
not  how  to  begin.  But  where  is  father?  —  can 
you  not  wake  father  ? 

Lincoln.  Then  you  have  come,  John.  Oh, 
how  my  head  aches  !  I  have  slept,  but  not  all 
the  time  —  they  talked  so  here.  But  why  have 
you  been  gone  so  long? 

John.  Well,  I  left  home  to  get  something  to 
drink,  and  bring  home,  as  I  promised  ;  but  I 
found  the  bars  all  closed  against  me, —  sale  of 
spirit  all  closed  up,  on  account  of  the  new  law. 
I  raved  —  I  longed  for  vengeance.  I  strolled 
off  to  the  village.  There  I  could  get  no  drink. 
I  Avished  for  the  strength  of  Samson,  that  I 
could  bring  down  the  house  upon  the  whole  as- 
sembly of  the  Legislature  that  had  made  such  a 
law.  Well,  I  passed  on ;  near  the  Town  Hall 
I  saw  a  crowd,  and  went  in.  There  I  heard  the 
trial  of  a  poor  drinking  fellow,  who  had  fired  a 
building.  I  saw  before  him  a  gloomy  life  with- 
in the  prison  walls.  This  showed  me  the  folly 
and  consequence  o,f  vengeance.  This  brought 
me  a  little  to  myself.  I  began  to  think  of  my 
condition  and  past  life  —  how  near  the  sad  fate 
of  this  poor  wretch  I  had  come  !  I  thought  how 
miserable  I  had  made  my  home  and  myself.  I 
resolved  at  least  to  confess  my  wrongs  to  my 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  233 

father,  whom  I  had  helped  on  in  wickedness, 
and  to  my  suffering  sisters.  I  sent  for  Clara, 
that  I  might  see  you  all  together.  I  had  now 
been  without  drink  so  long,  I  began  to  see  things 
as  I  had  not  for  years.  Every  face  I  met  in  the 
street  looked  reproaches  into  my  guilty  soul. 
I  longed  to  hide  from  every  eye.  I  wandered 
into  the  grove,  sat  down,  and  gave  myself  up 
to  my  own  bitter  reflections  on  happier  days. 
The  pale  face  of  my  heart-broken  mother  came 
before  me,  and  the  kind  voice  of  her  warnings 
and  counsels  seemed  sounding  on  my  ear  ;  then 
the  midnight  toil,  the  early  wasting  of  my  sis- 
ters' bloom, —  the  good  home  I  had  helped  to 
squander,  all  —  all  just  for  what  ?  Just  to  wash 
my  throat  with  liquid  fire,  and  make  myself  u 
fiend  !  O  sisters,  could  you  have  known  the 
agony  of  my  bursting  heart,  could  you  have 
seen  the  scalding  tears  I  shed,  you  would  have 
forgiven  your  tenfold  guilty  brother. 

Mary.  O  brother,  we  always  forgave  you 
when  we  prayed.  We  have  learned  to  forgive 
as  we  hope  to  be  forgiven,  and  to  pray  for  those 
who  despitefully  use  us. 

John.  Ah,  I  am  not  worthy  of  such  friends. 
Well,  I  arose  to  my  feet,  called  on  the  tall 
trees  around  me,  that  seemed  moaning  to  the 
autumn  winds,  on  the  sinless  birds  that  chimed 
a  plaintive  note  as  if  in  sympathy  with  my  woes, 


234  LIFE    AND   WRITINGS    OF 

on  all  earth  and  holy  heaven  to  witness  my 
vows,  that  never,  never  more,  would  I  raise  to 
my  lips  the  intoxicating  draught.  That  now 
and  forever  my  friendship  with  rum  and  all  its 
kindred  was  broken.  I  started  for  the  railroad 
station,  with  a  strange  calm  something  more 
like  happiness  stealing  over  my  spirits  than  I 
had  felt  for  a  long  time  before.  There  I  met  a 
gentleman  who  passed  me  a  copy  of  the  late 
law  suppressing  the  sale  of  ardent  spirits. 

Katy.  Is  there  then  a  law  passed,  printed 
and  enforced? 

Mary.  Pray  read — read  it  John  ;  our  hearts 
scarcely  beat  for  suspense. 

John.  Will  you  please  read  it,  Mr.  Apple- 
ton  ?  My  eyes  are  quite  inflamed  by  weeping. 

Billy.  And  father  is  crying,  too  ;  now  won't 
the  angels  come,  sister,  that  you  dreamed 
about  ? 

Miss  Appleton.  This  is  such  a  scene  as  an- 
gels might  come  to  look  upon. 

Mr.  Appleton  reads. 

John.  Ay,  Mr.  Appleton,  it  was  this  law 
which  but  yesterday  I  hated  that  has  been 
thrust  between  me  and  destruction.  Could  I 
have  obtained  it,  I  should  have  drowned  in  the 
treacherous  bowl  my  thundering  conscience, 
just  as  I  had  done  many  times  before. 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  235 

Jl//'.  Lincoln.  Well,  John,  I've  a  groat  deal 
more  to  repent  of  than  yon.  I  have  leu  you 
into  sin.  But  it  is  hard,  amazing  hard  for  a 
man  grown  old  in  sin  to  change  and  repent. 

Charley.  O  pa,  you  won't  come  home  and 
frighten  us  any  more,  will  you?  You  look  as 
though  you  would  not,  dear  father. 

Billy.  Dear  father,  I  wish  you  would  love 
us  as  poor  mother  did  and  call  us  dear  boys  — 

Lincoln.  Ah,  a  poor  father  I've  been  to  }"ou. 
Heaven  knows  I  feel  bad  enough  about  it. 

Clara.  One  thing  only  is  wanting  to  fill  our 
cup  with  joy.  That  is.  to  hear  you  promise 
Avhat  brother  John  has,  father. 

John.  O  father,  let  a  poor  worthless  son  en- 
treat you  to  promise. 

Mr.  Appltton.  I  cannot  be  silent,  Mr.  Lin- 
coln. I  will  give  my  word  to  be  no  more  a. 
half  way  wine  drinking  temperance  man.  I 
promise,  without  reserve,  to  se$  my  face  against 
intemperance  and  use  my  influence  to  gain 
others  to  the  cause,  and  I  will  sign  the  first 
teetotal  pledge  I  see. 

Lincoln.  Well,  I  am  with  you,  Mr.  Apple- 
ton.  I  will  halt  no  longer.  I  mav  vet  agram 

•/      •/  c 

be  a  man.  I  promise  that  I  will  drink  no  more 
spirits^or  cider,  henceforth  and  forever.  All 
you  are  witnesses. 

Katy.     May  Heaven  be  forever  praised  for 


236  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

this  happy  hour  !  The  day  has  dawned  and  the 
day  star  has  risen  upon  us. 

Mary.  Oh  !  that  every  cottage  that  has  felt 
the  withering  curse  of  intemperance,  could  wit- 
ness such  a  scene  as  this  !  May  every  hand, 
heart,  and  voice  be  awake  to  drive  far-hence  the 
hidra-headed  monster  until  a  trace  of  his  infer- 
nal footsteps  shall  be  found  no  more  on  the 
earth,  but  let  it  all  be  driven  down  to  Hell 
together. 

All.     So  let  it  be  !     So  let  it  be  ! 


MARINE  JOURNAL. 


LIFE,  OCEAN  ;  SHIP, 

The  morning  was  bright  and  clear  ;  not  a 
cloud  in  all  the  broad  blue  sky  to  vail  the 
splendor  of  the^  rising  sun.  The  breath  of 
countless  flowers  floating  on  the  gentle  zephyrs 
came  to  us  from  every  direction,  and  the  songs 
of  happy  birds  stirred  all  the  crystal  air  with 
rapturous  melody.  Such  was  the  enchanting 
scene  that  was  slowly  receding  from  our  view 
as  we  spread  our  sail  to  the  faint  breeze  and 
glided  glowly  out  of  the  harbor  of  parental 
guardianship.  AVe  passed  gently  down  the 
smooth  channel  of  mental  culture,  flowing  be- 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   «.    COWKLL.  237 

* 

t \vcen  its  high  banks  of  moral  restraint  and 
home  affections.  The  air  became  so  still,  the 
snails  loosed  from  their  masts,  and  our  ship 
drifted  with  the  gentle  foVce  of  the  current  with 
now  and  then  a  dip  of  the  oars  of  self-applica- 
tion ;  yet  even  here  we  were  told  there  were 
some  small  crafts  that  preceded  us,  which  had 
met  with  trouble,  by  neglect  or  deserting  the 
vigilance  post,  and  suffering,  through  sloth, 
their  boat  to  flounder  in  the  sand  near  the  banks 
and  were  lost ;  and  others,  by  crowding  sails 
when  the  little  vanity  gusts  which  are  quite  fre- 
quent here  sprung  up,  were  capsized  or  greatly 
injured  ;  yet  our  helmsman,  a  young  Mr.  Vigi- 
lance, kept  our  vessel  in  the  middle  of  the 
channel,  and  we  passed  safely  through.  The 
sun  was  getting  high  up  in  the  heavens  when 
we  found  our  vessel  rising  and  sinking  with  the 
swelling  of  the  waves.  We  were  now  out  on 
the  broad  ocean,  the  great  heaving,  throbbing, 
surging  ocean.  Far  as  the  eye  could  see  were 
vessels  of  every  description,  all  moving  over 
the  same  great  highway.  While  many  of  our 
crew  were  standing  on  deck,  watching  the  re- 
ceding of  the  distant  shore,  now  like  a  mere 
thread  lying  along  the  distant  horizon,  some  of 
the  younger  part  of  our  company  began  to  be 
very  restless,  complaining  of  the  heat  of  the 
sun,  the  dry  air,  &c.  Now  and  then  came  a 


LIFE  AND  WRITINGS  OF 

sigh  for  the  cooling  grottos  and  flowery  glades 
now  fading  in  the  misty  distance.  Just  then  a 
strange  sail  hove  in  sight,  bearing  towards  ua 
with  great  rapidity.  'When  she  came  alongside 
we  plainly  saw  in  large  gaudy  capitals  on  her 
flag  the  ominous  device,  "Live  while  you  live  ;" 
she  swept  past  our  more  moderate  ship,  and  we 
caught  a  sight  of  sparkling  goblets  and  heard 
the  sound  of  music,  while  all  seemed  life  and 
hilarity.  Just  as  young  Mr..  Appetite  and  Mr. 
Presumption  and  several  of  their  comrades  be- 
gan to  murmur  at  our  slow  progress,  a  venera- 
ble old  man  whose  name  was  Wisdom,  came  on 
deck,  looking  mildly  at  the  young  men,  then 
raising  his  cane  and  pointing  away  to  the  lee- 
ward, "  There,"  said  he,  "  are  some  dangerous 
breakers  oft'  yonder  where  you  see  the  spray 
leaping  up  so  high  in  the  air."  Capt.  Decision, 
who  had  often  been  in  consultation  with  Mr. 
Wisdom,  now  appeared,  and  led  him  to  the 
helm,  and  gave  orders  to  Mr.  Vigilance,  who 
occupied  that  post,  to  attend  strictly  to  the  di- 
rection of  the  old  man,  Wisdom.  Scarcely  was 
this  done,  before  a  wild  gust  like  a  black  cloud 
was  seen  whirling  along  in  the  rear  over  -the 
waves  and  began  to  roar  and  rattle  among  our 
rigging  with  a  frightful  noise.  Firmly  the  old 
man  grasped  the  helm,  as  orders  to  take  in  the 
sail  were  shouted  from  the  captain.  On  she 


MltS.    (CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL. 

tumbled,  the  gallant  young  ship,  now  plunging 
into  the  sepulchral  trough  of  the  boiling  sea, 
now  careering  to  the  clouds  on  the  mountain 
wave.  "  We  are  lost,"  feebly  wailed  a  sickly 
Mr.  Nerveless.  "We  are  Hearing  the  break- 
ers," and  leaving  his  post  he  sank  down  by  the 
side  of  the  hatch  wa}%  just  in  the  way  of  the 
more  vigorous  sailors. 

Here  a  young  man  with  very  benign  counte- 
nance and  clear  musical  voice,  a  Mr.  Hopewell, 
coming  down  from  the  foretop,  where  with  his 
spy  glass  he  had  kept  a  constant  look  out,  and 
modestly  raising  his  cap  he  very  reverently 
addressed  the  old  man,  Wisdom,  still  at  the 
helm.  "Shall  we  weather  this?"  he  said  in- 
quiringly. "Yes,"  said  the  venerable  old  man, 
"  Every  man  at  his  post  and  the  right  man 
here."  With  a  mournful  sweetness  of  his  voice 
he  repeated,  "Every  man  to  his  post  and  all 
will  be  well ; "  there  was  a  hidden  meaning  in 
his  look.  Here  another  whirl  of  the  wind  nearly 
prostrated  the  young  man,  who  caught  hold  of 
the  long  garments  of  Mr.  Wisdom,  who  still  sat 
firm  watching  every  phase  of  the  storm.  The 
winds  played  wildly  with  his  long  white  locks, 
and  fluttered  his  garments,  which  were  wrapt 
loosely  about  him.  "Another  tack,  now, 
straight  forward,"  the  helmsman  shouted,  "and 
she  is  safe."  Soon  the  foaminir  breakers  wore 


240  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS   OF 

behind,  and  many  were  on  deck,  still  tossed 
though  we  were,  and  intently  watching  the  dan- 
gerous rocks,  as  they  grew  smaller  in  the  dis- 
tance, and  listening  to  the  kind  words  of  the  old 
man,  Wisdom. 

"Many  a  proud  ship,"  said  he,  "has  gone 
down  there,  and  such  is  the  dismal  roar  that 
comes  up  from  that  direction,  superstition  has 
called  it  the  wailing  of  the  poor  lost  mariners." 
"  What  name  has  been  given  to  these  fearful 
rocks?"  inquired  Mr.  Seekgood.  "They  have 
several  names  :  Temerity,  Violence,  Wrath,  and 
such  like."  "  What  has  saved  us?  "  was  the  in- 
quiry of  many  on  board.  "  Many,  when  setting 
out  on  this  dangerous  voyage,"  confined  Wis- 
dom, "have  listened  to  the  younger  sailors,  and 
have  refused  to  take  experienced  navigators, 
and  have  placed  young  Presumption,  Appetite, 
and  Love- wealth,  and  kindred  characters,  by 
turns  at  the  helm.  When  dangers  came  they 
were  quickly  overwhelmed.  Some  have  es- 
caped to  own  their  folly  to  others,  while  many, 
alas  !  the  billows  have  swallowed  up  and  they 
are  no  more."  Here  the  captain  cast  a  mean- 
ing glance  at  the  bustling  little  fellows  who  had 
so  much  opposed  the  reception  of  the  old  man, 
Wisdom,  and  who  cast  such  unkind  and  con- 
temptuous glances  at  his  white  locks,  and  the 
old  worn  chart  that  was  always  under  his  arm. 


CHRISTIANA    tt.    COWRLL.  241 


He  evidently  wished  to  remind  them  how  they 
had  urged  the  importance  of  their  own  services 
at  the  hehn,  instead  of  his.  Ah!  but  for  him 
whom  they  so  much  despised,  and  wished  to  re- 
ject, they  might  have  now  been  dashing  among 
the  seaweeds  that  twist  and  whid  around  the 
charnel  rocks  of  the  ocean.  Yet  the  wealth  we 
possess  in  this  venerable  old  man  and  his  chart, 
was  not  yet  developed.  As  the  wav.es  sank 
away,  taking  the  spy  glass  and  looking  to  the 
leeward,  he  observed  a  speck  on  the  horizon. 
*  We  shall  soon  pass  between  two  islands  ;  on 
one  of  these  the  Goddess  of  Pleasure  Iras  her 
magnificent  temple  and  thousands  worship  there 
nt  her  shrine.  On  the  other  side  of  the  strait 
is  the  Island  of  Avarice,  under  the  government 
of  a  very  cruel  and  oppressive  monarch,  who  is 
descended  from  the  family  Lovelucre,  a  per- 
nicious root,  from  which  has  sprung  several 
dynasties,  under  the  various  names  of  Slave- 
ocrats,  Blood-burners,  Face-grinders,  Heart- 
bleeders,  Soul-stealcrs,  Xation-shakers,  and,  in 
fact,  a  large  progeny  from  a  powerful  ances- 
try. With  astonishing  skill  they  continue  to 
stre«gthe-n  their  kingdom  and  lure  many  an 
unwary  mariner  into  their  strong  holds  ;  and 
when  there,  they  throw  around  him  the  cords  of 
unending  vassalage.  Near  the  further  outlet, 
aud  running  5«  from  either  island  is  an  immense 


242  LIFE   AND   WRITINGS    OP 

sand  bur,  called  the  Bankrupt  bar.  Without 
the  most  skillful  management  of  the  vessel  be- 
tween the  two,  there  is  imminent  danger  of 
being  stranded.  Hence,  any  who  go  near  either 
shore,  are  liable  to  be  destroyed  in  very  sight 
of  land."  By  this  time  we  began  to  see  the 
island  very  distinctly.  While  we  were  gazing 
there  came  from  the  Island  of  Pleasure  the 
sound  as  of  many  instruments  of  music,  and 
beating  of  drums.  We  could  discern  her  long, 
many-colored  banners  floating  above  the  glit- 
tering turrets  of  her  lofty  domes.  It  must  have 
been  a  gala  day,  for  everything  seemed  life  and 
motion,  and  shining  in  the  greatest  splendor. 
Just  here  quite  an  altercation  took  place  be- 
tween Messrs.  Appetite  and  Love- wealth ;  the 
former  was  vociferous  to  go  ashore  on  the  Is- 
land of  Pleasure,  and  the  other  to  visit  the 
Island  of  Avarice.  They  had  long  iinportun- 
ings  with  the  captain,  each  begging  as  before, 
to  take  the  helm  and  turn  the  ship  in  his  own 
way,  while  the  captain  seemed  moved  by  their 
earnest  eloquence. 

A  fair-haired  boy,  whose  name  was  Con- 
science, with  a  clear  piercing  eye,  drew  near, 
and  in  a  silvery-toned  voice,  addressed  them. 
"Ye  know  not  what  ye  ask.  Had  ye  given 
heed  to  the  words  of  the  old  man,  Wisdom,  or 
consulted  the  valuable  chart  which  he  bears 


MKS,    CliiilSTlAXA  IJ.    OOWELL.  243 

about  him,  you  would  turn  away  with  horror 
and  look  not  on  the  fascinations  that  arc  spread 
out  but  to  lure  the  voyager  to  her  bone-white 
shore.  There  are  deadly  waves  that  forever 
dash  and  murmur  along  her  banks,  and  none 
can  pass  over  them  and  return  again.  She 
(shines  to  decoy,  she  lures  to  destroy,  and 
thousands  have  rushed  into  the  rapids  that  dash 
flic  luckless  Vessel  on  that  fatal  shore,  while 
they  are  bound  in  helpless  captivity,  despair 
and  deatn,  and  their  bones  bleach  where  heaps 
of  victims  lie,  silent,  ghostly  trophies  of  the 
yyren's  power."  iSo  deep-toned  grew  his  voice, 
so  unearthly  and  soul-stirring,  and  his  eye 
beamed  with  such  celestial  tire,  that  the  lis- 
teners quailed  before  him.  They  had  not 
dreamed  of  the  power  that  slumbered  in  that 
little  lad.  No  sooner  had  he  turned  to  the 
cabin  below  when  young  Presumption  began, 
"All  of  this  may  be  true,  we  will  not  attempt  a 
landing,  yet  let  us  beseech  the  captain  to  take 
u  sweep  around  a  little  nearer,  that  AVC  may 
only  see  these  magnificent  structures  and  read 
the  devices  on  those  waving  banners."  It  was 
agreed.  The  captain,  wishing  to  be  at  peace 
with  all,  suffered  the  vessel  to  turn  her  majestic 
prow  toward  the  bewildering  enchantress. 
"  How  foolish  the  fears  of  that  old  man  and  his 
little  favorite,  Conscience!"  said  one  to  an- 


244  ttFE   AND   WRITINGS   OV 


other  ;  "  We  are  safe  enough  ;  how  easy  we  can 
turn  away  when  we  see  danger  !  How  proudly 
she  leaps  over  the  waves  before  the  living1 
winds  !  "  Hark  !  a  low  growl,  what  means  it? 
Another  and  still  another,  a  grinding,  scraping' 
sound,  each  attended  by  a  violent  lurch  of  the 
ship.  "Rocks!  rocks!"  shouted  the  captain. 
"A  leak!"  cries  Vigilance  from  below,  "To 
the  pumps,"  roared  the  captain,  and  with  a  look 
of  horrid  dismay,  he  grasped  the  arm  of  Wis- 
dom, and  cried  out,  "Oh,  save  us  oifce  more, 
and  your  counsel  shall  be  regarded  in  future/' 
Suddenly  a  wild  shriek  was  heard  from  below. 
Conscience  had  been  apprised  of  the  where- 
abouts of  the  vessel  and  began  terrific  cries  and 
dismal  waitings  that  thrilled  every  one  on 

o  *• 

board  with  horror.  In  vain  was  every  effort 
made  to  quiet  his  ravings.  There  was  no  where 
peace.  The  old  man,  who  was  now  regarded 
as  the  living,  infallible  oracle,  was  now  consulted 
in  regard  to  what  they  should  do  For  Con- 
science had  awakened  in  every  heart  a  fearful 
looking  for  the  fiery  indignation  that  awaited 
them.  He  then  read  from  the  old  chart  under 
his  arm  a  prescription,  which  was  immediately 
prepared,  consisting  of  one  part  confession  and 
two  parts  contrition,  to  be  administered  freely 
till  quiet  was  restored.  Strange  to  tell,  as  soon 
as  we  we  were  headed  towards  the  middle  of 


CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  245 


the  strait,  and  our  vessel  repaired  by  one  Mr. 
Temperance,  and  peace  restored,  who  should 
be  seen  slyly  whispering  to  the  captain  but 
Mr.  Seek-wealth,  entreating  him  just  to  stop 
a  few  hours  at  the  opposite  shore.  Time  would 
fail  to  describe  this  hazardous  adventure,  how 
a  skirmish  ensued,  and  Conscience,  still  feeble, 
was  severely  wounded,  and  not  able  to  perform 
duty  for  many  days,  and  many  valuables  on 
board  destroyed.  Also  difficulties  were  en- 
countered at  the  sand  bar.  Mr.  Economy  was 
constantly  employed  in  taking  soundings  and 
thought  it  almost  impossible  for  us  to  escape. 
After  much  toil,  however,  and  great  danger, 
we  once  more  found  our  vessel  in  the  open  sea, 
Here  we  must  pause  and  reflect  upon  one 
mournful  sight,  which  left  such  a  dark  impres- 
sion, that  the  bare  mention  of  it  on  board 
shades  every  face  with  gloom.  It  was  a  wreck, 
a  magnificent  wreck.  While  we  were  toiling 
and  beating  at  the  great  sand  bar,  we  heard  the 
signal  of  distress,  and  looking  toward  Pleasure 
Island,  a  strange  object  was  seen.  On  exami- 
nation through  the  spy-glass,  our  captain  pro- 
nounced it  a  wreck  of  the  fast  ship  that  shot 
past  us  with  the  broad  colors  and  the  epicurean 
motto,  "  Live  while  you  live.I'  The  winds 
were  driving  her  hard  upon  the  rocks  ;  her 
sails  were  half-mast,  and  now  and  then  we 


246  LIFE    AND    WAITINGS    OF 

could  hear  the  deep  booming  of  the  signal  gun. 
A  ship  in  distress,  vet  beyond  reach  of  hope 
and  help.  She  pitched, —  rolled  —  now  lost  in 
the  spray —  now  trembling  on  the  wave.  " She's 
gone,"  said  the  captain,  as  he  swept  the  glass 
along  the  misty  horizon  down  the  rocky  shore, 
"nothing  there  to  be  seen  but  the  waves  lashing 
the  rocks."  Imagination  alone,  must  tell  the 
long  story  of  their  sufferings,  their  early  folly 
in  choosing  such  a  crew  and  outfit,  and  their 
rapid  course  to  their  mournful  end.  None  will 
ever  come  back  to  tell  the  story  of  their  ruin. 
When  we  were  once  more  freed  from  duty 
by  a  calm,  with  what  deferential  affection  all 
gathered  around  the  old  man,  and  the  now 
healthy  and  tenderly  cherished  Conscience, 
some  at  his  feet,  others  took  hold  of  his  gar- 
ments, or  caressingly  drew  a  hand  over  his  long 
silver  hair,  as  he  gave  more  minute  descriptions 
of  the  various  parts  of  the  ocean.  He  often 
related  instances  of  intense  suffering,  resulting 
from  the  inexperience  of  navigators,  who, 
trusting  in  their  own  wisdom  and  strength, 
always  failed  to  reach  the  port.  He  was 
wont  to  say,  "Though  the  wicked  join  hand  in 
hand,  they  shall  not  go  unpunished."  So  de- 
lighted did  we, become  with  these  instructions, 
and  the  frequent  readings  from  his  priceless 
chart,  that  the  former  troublesome  sailors  began 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  217 

to  learn  their  folly  and  behave  with  more  lie- 
coming  grace.  We  had  many  storms  of  com- 
mon adversity  to  encounter,  which  sometimes 
left  the  crew  greatly  exhausted  and  our  ship 
partially  disabled.  Thus  we  moved  on,  some- 
times beneath  a  scorching  sun,  then  madly 
driven  by  tempestuous  winds.  Yet  the  sweet 
voice  of  Conscience,  or  the  cheerful  songs  of 
Hope,  made  us  strong  in  the  belief  that  we 
should  reach  the  Port,  while  the  words  of  our 
venerable  Counsellor,  and  the  comforting  prom- 
ises which  he  read,  were  the  delight  of  us  all. 
One  day  Mr.  Hope  came  on  deck  with  a 
rapturous  glow  on  his  face,  and  shouted  at  the 
top  of  his  voice,  "  I  can  see  the  port."  We 
were  all  summoned  one  by  one,  to  look  through 
the  spy-glass,  which  he  held.  We  saw  a 
silvery  crest  lying  along  the  distant  horizon 
that  assured  us  it  was  the  long  wished  for 
yaven.  Our  vessel  once  anchored  there,  shall 
heave  and  writhe  with  old  ocean's  waves  no 
more.  She  is  old  and  shattered  and  cau  endure 
but  a  few  more  storms,  and  we  may  all  rejoice 
that  we  can  soon  bid  her  adieu,  and  go  up  to 
behold  the  King  in  his  Temple,  surrounded  by 
a  countless  host,  who  have  crossed  the  stormy 
ocean,  and  now,  with  palms  of  victory  in  their 
hands,  and  crowns  of  glory  on  their  heads,  are 
singing,  "  Allelujah  to  the  King  forever  and 


248  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS  .OF 

over."  Hope  leaped  for  joy,  and  chipping  his 
hands,  broke  out  in  a  song  of  gladness  so  loud 
and  clear,  that  it  rang  through  the  vessel,  and 
was  borue  off  by  the  murmuring  waves  and 
wind  in  almost  entrancing  cadence.  "Listen  a 
moment,"  said  Wisdom,  "I  have  one  more 
thing  to  say,  then  I  shall  be  silent.  Just  this 
side  of  yonder  beauteous  shore  rolls  a  dark, 
deep  gulf;  we  must  pass  over  it,  (called  sigis 
mortis).  The  winds  that  sweep  over  it  are  so 
chilling  that  all  on  board  become  so  benumbed 
that  it  is  impossible  to  do  duty,  and,  beside, 
there  comes  up  such  a  mist  we  cannot  see. 
Hence,  pilots  are  sent  by  the  King  to  pilot 
those  who  will  surrender  all  to  their  care  safely 
into  port.  Fear  not  then,  when  the  cold  winds 
blow  around ;  call  for  the  pilot,  and  when  once 
borne  up  the  distant  bank,  you  will  suddenly 
start  into  new  life  at  the  touch  of  the  reviving 

O 

air,  and  at  the  sound  of  the  Harpers  who  fi^ 
all  the  Kingdom  with  the  sweetest  music  that 
ever  fell  on  mortal  ear." 


While  I  beheld  with  speed  surprising, 

Down  in  its  depths  they  plunged  from  sight,. 

Gazing  still  I  saw  them  rising, 
Like  the  angels,  clothed  in  white, 


MllS.    CHRISTIANA   15.    COWELL.  249 


SABBATH  SCHOOL  ENTERPRISE. 

FI1IST   SCENE, 

The  drunken  father  on  the  stage  ;    a  lad  sitting 
on  the  stage,  reading ;  sister  near  by  sewing. 
Enter  another  sister,  flings  down  her  bonnet 
with  a  hasty,  desponding  air,  exclaiming  : 
Annie.     Dear, —  dear  me.     How  tired  I  am 
of  the  confusion,  bustle,  and  excitement  of  this 
world  !     I  am  every  day  hoping  for  something 
to  make  me  happy,  and   am   every  day  disap- 
pointed.    Now  I  am  positively  tired  of  trying. 
Susan.      How   now,    sister ;    what  has  dis- 
turbed you? 

Annie.  Disturbed!  why  it  is  nothing  else 
with  me.  Here  you  sit,  day  after  day,  and 
sew  and  read,  and  talk  to  this  and  that  little 
ragged  urchin  that  you  can  see,  and  seem  as 
quiet  as  you  please.  As  for  me  there  is  no 
peace,  no  rest  in  this  wide  world. 

/Susan.  I  thought  I  heard  your  friend,  Miss 
Gray  say,  that  you  were  the  very  gayest  of  the 
party  at  Mrs.  Haynes' ;  you  seemed  always 
smiling  and  receiving  attentions  and  flatteries 
of  some  of  the  most  wealthy  and  genteel  that 
were  there. 

Ijittle  Harry.  What  think  poor  little  Susan 
Lill  said  to  her  brother,  when  you  and  young 

11 » 


250  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

Alcott  dashed  by  us,  as  we  were  going  to 
Sabbath  School  last  Sabbath? 

Annie.  Some  of  your  sagacious  sayings,  I 
dare  say.  What  might  it  be  ? 

Harry.  She  said  she  thought  you  could  not 
be  so  happy,  away  for  pleasure  on  the  Sabbath, 
as  her  dear  teacher  was  talking  with  her  class 
in  Sabbath  School.  She  wished  you  knew  Avhat 
a  delightful  place  it  was  —  she  believed  you 
would  come  in. 

Annie.  Oh,  nonsense  !  The  Sabbath  School ! 
That  will  do  for  you  and  lame  Susan  to  talk 
about,  now  she  is  not  able  to  go  to  parties, 
theatres,  and  such  places,  as  a  fiord  real  amuse- 
ment. Fine  place  would  not  it  be,  for  a  young 
lady  of  my  cloth,  who  has  her  hundreds  to 
spend  for  her  pleasure  ! 

Harry.  I  think  I  should  never  love  you 
better  than  when  I  see  you  kindly  talking  with 
some  poor  little  children  that  we  see  every 
Sabbath;  I  know  you  could  make  them  so 
happy. 

Annie.  Just  see  me  now, —  your  sister 
Annie. —  After  I  have  spent  so  much  time  in 
learning  to  dance,  and  sing,  and  everything 
that  would  make  me  accomplished,  and  pre- 
pared to  make  a  mark  in  the  world,  go  and  set 
myself  down  with  a  lot  of  little  sleepy,  dirty 
youugoues,  telling  them  what  m-a-u  spells,  and 


MllS.    CHRISTIANA    li.    COWELL. 

what  to  do  when  Sunday  comes !  There  — 
there — I  should  not  know  myself  in  such  a 
pew. 

Harry.  O  sister,  there  are  not  many  poor 
little  children  in  our  school,  and  if  there  were,  I 
should  feel  all  the  better  to  see  them  improving 
under  your  cave.  But  you  may  take  a  class  of 
young  ladies ;  there  are  many  you  can  have. 
Then  I  know  they  would  love  you  so,  and  look 
so  delighted  to  see  you  come  in,  would  you  not 
be  happy  then,  sister? 

Annie.  Happy?  how  could  I  be  happy 
mumbling  over  the  Bible  all  the  week,  studying 
out  a  lesson  to  make  me  appear  respectable  as 
a  teacher  on  the  Sabbath  ?  What  chance  should 
I  have  to  read  the  new  novels,  as  they  come 
out?  You  know  I  have  so  many  calls,  parties, 
and  rides  now,  I  have  not  found  time  to  read 
the  last  package  that  Mr.  Alcott  left  me  four  or 
five  weeks  since.  Pretty  child  this  to  go  about 
such  dull  business.  Not  I. 

/Susan.  Perhaps  you  will  not  desire  to  read 
such  light  and  hurtful  matter  when  you  have 
begun  a  life  of  usefulness  and  study  more  im- 
portant books. 

Annie.  But  I  don't  believe  anything  of  your 
nonsense  and  don't  want  to  hear  it. 

Hurry.  But  it  must  be  so,  Annie,  for  sister 
Susan  has  not  wished  me  to  read  a  foolish  ro- 


•ilrl  LIFE    AND    WHITINGS    OF 

mance  (as  she  calls  it)  to  her,  since  she  has 
been  able  to  sit  up  after  her  long  confinement 
from  that  dreadful  accident  of  the  cars.  Now 
she  says  she  is  very  happy  to  sit  and  sew,  al- 
though she  has  but  little  hope  that  she  can  ever 
walk  again.  She  says  she  has  just  learned  how 
to  enjoy  life.  She  feels  far  more  quiet  and 
happy  to  hear  me  read  good  books  and  tell  her 
of  the  families  where  she  sends  me  with  the 
beautiful  new  things  she  makes  for  them. 

Annie.  Nothing  but  a  great  show  of  charity. 
She  knows  she  was  not  fit  to  enjoy  the  pleas- 
ures of  society,  or  she  would  not  have  been 
.shut  up  here  these  three  years.  She  wants  to 
make  a  display  in  some  way,  so  she  gets  these 
poor  widows  and  ragged  children  shouting  and 
fluttering  and  crying  round  her,  just  as  though 
she  was  an  angel,  just  flown  down  from  a  place 
where  all  is  very  beautiful. 

Susan.  Ah,  sister,  part  of  your  words  are 
true,  though  painful  from  the  taunt  they  meant, 
and  spirit  they  bespeak.  Yet  I  forgive  you. 
You  know  not  what  you  do.  I  know  I  was, 
and  always  am,  unworthy  of  the  blessings  that 
I  daily  receive.  Oh,  how  truly  unfit  for 
them,  when  I  received  them  with  such  a  hard, 
ungrateful  heart  as  I  once  did. 

Harry.  O  sister  Annie  !  Susan  wept  a  long 
time  after  you  went  out  last  night.  I  think  it 


MKS.    CHRISTIANA    13.    COWELL.  253 

was  because  you  said  such  cruel  words  to  her. 
But  I  did  not  wish  to  ask  her  :  she  seemed 
grieved  to  talk. 

jSusan.  Sweet  boy,  I  love  your  tender  sym- 
pathy. I  grieved  not  so  much  at  my  own 
wounds  that  sister  inflicts,  as  at  the  sad  state  of 
her  heart,  and  the  sorrow  I  fear  she  will  bring 
upon  herself. 

Annie.  Oh,  what  gloomy,  sickly  sentimen- 
tality !  I  should  go  into  consumption  if  I  were 
confined  to  your  company.  In  a  few  weeks  I 
shall  have  a  splendid  house  and  servants  all  to 
myself,  and  Alcott  says  I  shall  be  denied  noth- 
ing that  will  add  to  my  happiness  that  icecdth 
can  procure.  I  hope  to  see  some  peace  then  ; 
not  hear  so  much  about  my  hard  heart  and 
blind  heart,  and  the  future  world  and  such  like. 

Harry.  My  teacher  said  last  Sabbath,  "  He 
must  make  much  of  the  present,  for  to-morrow 
was  not  ours  ;  and  future  things  were  hidden 
from  us  and  everything  was  uncertain,"  but  one, 
and  that  is  death.  Oh,  here  comes  Mrs.  Bridel 
—  that  woman  that  was  so  sick.  Please  walk 
in,  Mrs.  Bridel. 

Enter  Mrs.  B.,  very  tired  and  feeble. 


You  look  very  tired,  Mrs.  Bridel. 
I  fear  you  have  taken  too  long  a  walk.  Will 
you  take  my  fan  ? 


254  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

Mrs.  B.  to  Susan.  I  am  quite  well,  now, 
th:mk  you.  I  thought  this  beautiful  morning,  I 
should  be  perfectly  happy  if  I  could  reach  your 
house,  and  talk  with  you  and  this  dear  young 
lad.  You  have  done  so  much  for  us  I  can 
never  tell  you  how  much  we  are  indebted  to 
you.  I  could  not  have  lived  if  you  had  not  re- 
membered me  in  my  sickness  day  after  day. 
()  Miss,  when  I  he:axl  your  carriage  stop  at  the 
cottage  door  I  used  to  thank  my  Heavenly 
Father  for  such  an  angel  visit.  Your  gentle, 
pious  words  always  made  me  feel  so  quiet. 

/Susan.  Is  your  daughter  at  home,  that  I 
have  seen  with  you  ? 

Mrs.  Briclel.  Ah,  she  has  gone  out  now  to 
find  some  sewing.  She  lost  her  work  while  I 
was  sick,  because  she  could  not  do  enough  to 
please  Mr.  Griffin.  I  hope  she  will  find  some, 
for  I  can  help  her  now,  poor  girl,  that  she  may 
get  prepared  to  go  to  church  again.  You  can- 
not think  what  a  comfort  my  poor  Jane  has  be- 
come to  me,  since  little  Harry  first  led  her  to 
the  Sabbath-school.  She  would  read  such  good 
books  to  me  while  I  was  sick  that  made  me 
quite  forget  my  sufferings.  And  now  her 
father  is  not  so  cruel  to  her,  but  often  sits  a 
whole  evening  to  hear  her  read.  I  know  you 
will  be  blessed  for  your  great  kindness  in  our 
distress. 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   B.    COWELL.  255 

/Susan.  I  have  several  garments  fitted  for 
some  children.  I  will  send  them  to  you  and 
Jane,  if  you  wish.  You  need  not  look  else- 
where for  work  at  present,  long  as  I  am  able  ta 
carry  on  my  present  operation. 

Harry.  I  will  carry  the  work,  sister,  and 
that  new  tract  for  Mr.  Briclel,  if  you  say  I  may. 

Mrs.  Bridel.  Oh,  a  thousand,  thousand 
blessings  on  your  precious  heads.  I  will 
hasten  home  to  tell  Jane  soon  as  she  shall  re- 
turn. May  you  live  a  long  and  happy  life. 
.Good  morning. 

Exit  Mrs.  Bridel. 

Harry.  I  am  so  delighted  to  see  that  good 
woman  so  well  and  happy.  Won't  they  all  be- 
come good  now,  that  wicked  man  begins  to  like 
good  reading. 

Susan.  We  must  "rejoice  with  them  that 
rejoice "  and  be  humbly  grateful  for  the  great 
privilege  of  scattering  a  few  flowers  in  the  path 
of  the  lowly. 

Annie.  Then  you  are  dressing  up  a  lot  of 
children.  I  wonder  what  will  be  the  next  out- 
break of  your  charity. 

Harry.  Don't,  pretty  sister.  You  know  my 
teacher  told  us  to  go  out  into  some  of  the  back 
streets  and  see  if  we  could  not  persuade  some 
little  wicked  Sabbath  breakers  to  come  to  the 


256  LIFE    AXJ)   WRITINGS   OF 

house  down  the  lane,  and  when  I  asked  them 
if  they  would  go  with  me  next  Sabbath,  they 
said  they  had  no  clothes.  So  you  know  sister 
.Susan  has  got  help,  and  dressed  enough  for  one 
large  class,  and  that  dear  Miss  Bruce  is  their 
teacher.  Oh,  you  can't  think  how  bright  and 
pleasant  they  look  at  me  when  I  see  them. 
Now  I  have  found  some  more  that  will  be  ready 
soon  for  another  class. 

Annie,  (tossing  a  new  handkerchief  scorn- 
fully). Here,  Su,  you  are  so  full  of  good 
works,  just  hem  this  for  me,  will  you?  (Then, 
to  Harry).  Yes,  yes,  Harry,  this  teacher  of 
yours  is  the  one  that  has  done  the  mischief. 
If  he  had  not  got  you  so  tilled  with  his  notions, 
you  might  have  become  quite  polished  by  this 
time.  Alcott  says  he  would  have  made  you  one 
school  and  learn  the  Bible.  I  have  been  to  the 
of  the  finest  dancers  in  the  place  if  yon  had  not 
left  him.  Here  you  have  talked  and  read  Susan 
into  the  same  dull  Bibleism  and  nonsense.  You 
might  have  had  as  many  gay  friends  as  I  have, 
and  been  as  much  admired  and  praised.  How 
provoking. 

Susan.  Did  you  not  say,  sister,  when  you 
came  in,  you  Avere  not  happy?  Everything 
failed  to  please  you? 

A)t.n.ie.  Well,  what  if  I  did?  So  I  am  tired 
of  the  world  and  vexed  with  everything  I  see 
in  it.  But  I  could  not  endure  to  live  as  you  do. 


S.  rnmsTiANA  B.  COWELL. 


You  h;ivc  not  tried  it,  sister.     You 
cannot  judge. 

Enter  a  boy  and  leaves  a  letter  and  retires. 

Annie.  Heigho,  a  letter  for  me;  so  it  is, 
Alcott;  yes,  Alcott's  hand  writing.  (Reads 
silently.)  What!  Gracious  stars  !  (Lets  tall 
(he  letter.)  Have  I  come  to  this!  (Harry 
takes  it.)  Yes,  Harry,  read  it.  Perhaps  I 
dream  —  is  it  real?  Oh.  horrors!  (Harry 
reads.)  Miss  AXNIE,  —  There  is  a  deperate 
satisfaction  I  feel  in  this  last  and  only  oppor- 
tunity of  lettting  you  know  the  truth,  that  dis- 
guise is  no  longer  possible,  I  have  been  one  of 
a  secret  bund  for  plunder  and  gain  in  eveiy  way 
possible.  This  you  will  hear  perhaps  before 
this  reaches  you.  When  I  learned  the  immense 
wealth  of  your  family  I  thought  to  gain  your 
favor  and  win  over  the  little  pet  Harry  to  join 
our  ranks,  and  through  his  unsuspecting,  and 
unsuspected  disposition  gain  our  purpose  on 
your  unconscious  father. 

But  the  detestable  Sabbath-school  and  the 
sayings  of  that  teacher  of  his,  has  been  like 
a  hateful  bulwark  around  him.  We  could  not 
gain  him  by  flatteries  or  promises.  He  alone 
has  saved  your  family.  But  it  is  all  out  now. 

V  • 

We  had  a  traitor,  and  I  know  there  is  no  hope, 
but  to  suffer  the  penalty  of  the  law.       1  have 


253  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

always  expected  detection,  but  hoped  to  brave 
it  a  little  longer.  I  know  now  there  is  nothing 
more  for  me  in  this  world.  Hope  you  will  not 
attempt  to  see  rue.  I  could  not  bear  the  look 
of  that  pious  sister  of  yours.  She  has  often 
haunted  my  conscience  with  her  solemn  words  ; 
yes.  I  have  a  little  conscience  left.  I  was  once 
with  a  good,  kind  sister,  under  good  instruc- 
tion. I  was  first  led  away  by  these  same  com- 
binations that  have  proved  my  ruin.  By  the 
most  flattering  prospects  of  wealth  and  unre- 
strained pleasures,  I  ran  away  from  school,  and 
joined  hands  with  the  wicked  to  do  evil. 

I  have  seen  my  good  sister  weep  over  me, 
but  in  vain.  Alas  !  she  now  sleeps  in  the 
grave  ;  and  my  parents  — this  stroke  will  break 
their  hearts.  My  conscience  has  sometimes 
goaded  me  to  break  away  from  these  wicked 
bauds.  Yet  the  love  of  life  kept  me  on.  revel- 
ing over  a  wretched  heart.  Xow  the  worst 
must  come  !  This  partial  confession  to  you  has 
for  once  unlocked  the  fountain  of  tears.  I  weep 
freely  —  the  first  time  for  3'ears.  Oh,  the  past ! 
The  early,  innocent  past !  when  I  might  have 
heeded  the  voice  of  instruction,  and  led  a  happy, 
useful  life.  Alas!  all  is  lost  —  gone  forever! 
My  imagination  pictures  now  that  lovely  Harry, 
whom  I  shall  see  no  more,  clothed  in  light, 
guarded  on  either  side  by  a  wall  of  fire,  which 


MILS.    CHRISTIANA    IJ.    COWELL.  251) 

that  lame  sister's  and  teacher's  influence  and 
prayers,  keep  burning  bright,  looking  calm  and 
firm  rebukes  into  my  writhing  soul.  Yes,  I 
sought  his  ruin,  and  not  his  alone.  But  'tis 
past ;  yes,  I  meet  my  deserts.  I  shall  be  tor- 
mented, while  scores  and  hundreds  shall  rise  up 
to  crown  him  with  laurels  of  honor,  gratitude 
and  love.  But  I  wander  —  my  brain  reels. 
Farewell  forever.  Yours  no  longer, 

AI.COTT. 

Annie.  Oh,  what  disgrace  !  what  meanness  ! 
I  thought  I  was  miserable  as  I  could  be,  before. 
How  can  1  live? 

Jinrnj.  Jx't  us  rejoice,  sister,  Chat  we  have 
escaped  from  the  dangerous  snare  that  was 
lain  for  us. 

Summ.  Yes,  for  us.  How  much  more 
trouble  we  might  have  had  !  Is  it  not  a  kind 
Providence  that  has  saved  us? 

Annie.  Now  I  suppose  you  think  I  have  my 
pay  for  taunting  you  so  much.  I  hope  you 
will  not  treat  me  as  I  have  you. 

Su9cm.  ^o  —  no;  far  from  it.  It  was  your 
own  conscience,  not  I,  or  anything  in  all  my 
deportment,  has  suggested  that  thought.  I 
believe  you  may  yet  mid  the  true  way  or  road 
to  happiness. 

(looking  out  the    window).       There 


2l)0  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

goes  Miss  Gray.  How  coldly  she  looks  toward 
the  house  !  She  was  to  call  for  me  to  walk 
with  her.  Ay,  how  she  has  changed  !  I  could 
not  have  thought  she  would  have  passed  by,  so 
strange  ! 

Susan.  We  don't  know  who  to  call  our 
true  friends  in  the  day  of  prosperity.  But 
nevermind,  sister, —  true  happiness  is  not  in 
the  flattering  attention  of  friends. 

Annie.  Ah,  I  know  I  shall  be  slighted  and 
despised.  I  wish  I  had  never  been  born,  or 
never  had  seen  the  deceitful  fellow.  You  told 
me  never  to  trust  a  young  man  that  would 
gamble  and  break  the  Sabbath,  for  those  habits 
were  generally  attended  by  worse  ones  ;  but 
I  did  not  believe  you  —  I  wish  I  had, —  but  it 
is  too  late.  I  thought  you  wanted  to  afflict  me. 

Enter  two  ladies.     Harry  rises. 

Harry.     O  Misses  Rice,  will  you  be  seated? 

Miss  fiice,  1st.  We  called  to  give  you  a 
little  report  of  our  mission  the  past  week,  as 
we  promised  you. 

/Susan.  I  am  most  happy  to  see  you.  I 
hope  you  have  prospered. 

Miss  liice,  "2nd.  Oh,  most  assuredly  we 
have,  beyond  our  expectation.  For  (he  little 
children  that  Master  Harry  had  gathered  into 
the  school,  there  were  many  books  and  various 


MttS.    CHRISTIANA   «.    COWELL.  2(Jt 

Articles  wanted,  which  we  supplied  from  the 
sum  you  gave  into  our  charge.  We  then  found 
those  poor  little  orphans  tit  the  bottom  of  Briar 
Lane,  almost  without  bread  and  clothes.  The 
oldest  girl  Could  read  and  sew.  After  two  days 
we  had  them  clothed,  tind  a  pious  woman  en- 
gaged to  oversee  the  work  we  left  for  them 
until  next  week's  visit,  when  we  shall  leave 
books,  and  enter  them  in  the  school. 

.Hurry*  Dear  little  children  —  no  father  or 
mother. 

Miss  Rice,  1st.  Their  mother  was  dead, 
and  their  father  had  not  been  heard  of  for  some 
weeks.  They  must  have  been  scattered  in  the 
wicked  world,  if  we  had  not  found  them,  where 
nothing  but  iniquity  and  sorrow  was  before 
them.  We  found,  too,  a  good  gentleman,  who 
noticed  our  mission,  and  put  into  our  hands 
twenty  dollars.  This  was  soon  disposed  of,  in 
clothing  and  feeding  the  hungry  and  destitute. 
Oh,  our  hearts  ached  to  see  the  amount  of  kind 
and  generous  feeling  hid  up  in  such  filth  and 
rags  —  such  a  desire  to  be  and  do  better  ;  but 
they  knew  not  how. 

/Susan.  The  blessing  of  those  ready  to 
perish  be  upon  you. 

fifitss  Rice,  '2nd.  We  were  much  affected  by 
the  story  of  a  little  ^Willie  Bond.  He  has  been 
in  the  school,  and  seemed  truly  pious,  for  six 


262  LIVE   AND   WRITINGS    Off 

months  past.  During  this  time,  his  mother 
said  lie  was  in  the  habit,  when  he  came  to  the 
table,  of  clasping  his  hands,  and  asking  the 
divine  blessing.  Last  week  his  father  came 
home  from  sea  —  a  rough,  profane  fisherman, 
When  he  sat  at  the  table,  the  little  lad  meekly 
closed  his  eyes,  and  raised  his  little  hands,  and 
began  in  a  low,  solemn  tone  his  usual  invoca- 
tion,—  when  his  father  jumped  up,  enraged, 
and  asked  him  what  it  meant,  Words  were 
followed  by  blows,  and  the  little  saint  was 
persecuted  and  forbidden  to  come  to  the  table, 
and  ate  in  a  corner  alone.  Some  days  after, 
the  cruel  father  heard  his  meek  little  son  alone 
in  his  room.  He  drew  near,  heard  him  pray- 
ing for  his  "  dear  father."  He  listened  till  his 
sailor  heart  grew  soft,  and  the  big  tears  rolled 
down  his  weather-beaten  cheeks.  When  the 
boy  aroae,  he  was  clasped  in  his  father's  arms, 
and  told  to  pray  all  that  he  pleased,  and  for  his 
poor  wicked  father  too.  A  happy  family  they 
are  now,  through  that  little  faithful  lad.  We 
wept  together  with  the  good  mother,  tears  of 
joy  and  gratitude  to  the  Great  Author  of  all 
good. 

Miss  Rice,  1st.  Those  sick  widows,  too, 
are  slowly  gaining.  When  we  set  down  the 
little  basket  of  comforts  you  sent  to  Mrs.  Hoff- 
man, she  clasped  her  hands,  and  said  of  you, 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   B.    COWEl.L. 


"  When  the  car  heard  her,  it  blessed  her  ;  and 
she  caused  the  widow's  heart  to  sing  for  joy." 
Pier  blessing  seemed  so  sweet  and  warm  upon 
us  also,  it  was  worth  a  day's  dusty  walk  to 
obtain. 

Annie.  It  seems  that  you  find  happiness 
without  seeking  it,  while  I  have  been  all  my 
life  time  seeking  it,  and  grow  every  day  more 
wretched. 

Miss  Rice,  list.  Ay,  happiness  is  a  way-side 
flower,  not  the  object  at  which  we  aim,  in  our 
path. 

Annie.  Pray,  tell  me  then  what  is  your 
object  ? 

Miss  Rice,  1st.  Seek  the  good  of  all,  the 
injury  of  none. 

Miss  Hice,  2nd.  To  know  right,  and  do  it  : 
love  truth,  and  seek  it,  and  sell  no  moment  but 
in  purchase  of  its  worth,  either  in  improvement 
to  ourselves,  or  the  good  of  others. 

Annie.  And  you  are  quite  happy,  and  feat' 
nothing  of  to-morrow  ? 

Jliss  Rice,  1st.  We  try  to  do  the  duties  of 
the  day,  and  calmly  wait  the  morrow  —  have 
nothing  to  fear.  But  we  must  leave,  as  we 
have  some  writing,  to  keep  an  account  of  our 
expenditures.  So,  good  afternoon. 

Annie  (to  Susan).  What  a  strange  class  of 
beings  you  have  round  you  !  Here  you  are 


2lM  LIFE   AND   WRITINGS   OF 

attending  to  all  this  business, —  can't  walk  n. 
step,-— yet  much  happier  than  I  have  ever 
been.  Oh,  here  is  father. 

Enter  Father,  with  a  newspaper* 

Father.  Well,  Annie,  you  are  at  home 
then  ? 

Annie*  Yes,  indeed  ;  I  shall  never  want  to 
be  seen  in  society  again  —  I  am  so  deceived  — 
so  sad. 

Father.  Then  }rou  have  heard  of  the  arrests. 
.Rather  bad  business  —  rather  bad.  I  did  not 
think  Alcott  was  one  of  them,  surely. 

Annie.  But  he  has  many  habits  that  some 
call  wicked,  father.  You  know  he  disregards 
the  Sabbath,  uses  profane  language,  and  plays 
cards,  and  such  things.  If  you  had  taught  me 
to  count  these  us  indications  of  an  unsound 
character,  and  taught  me  to  observe  strict 
moral  principles  in  the  choice  of  a  companion, 
I  should  never  have  encouraged  his  addresses  ; 
no  I  should  rather —  (walking  across  the  stage 
showing  much  uneasiness). 

Father.  What  I  what !  Do  you  mean  to 
blame  me,  because  you  have  been  deceived  by 
a  rascal?  (stamps.)  Do  you  say  I  have  not 
taught  you  right,  when  I  have  denied  you 
nothing.  I  have  given  you  every  means  for 
happiness  and  knowledge,  and  told  you  to  make 


"MRS.   rilUlSTIXXA    B,    COWELL.  265 

yourself  happy  as  you  could,  aud  choose  your 
own    amusements,    ooly    keep    in    respectable 
society.     Is  this  the  return  ?     Do  you  menu  to 
rebuke  me  if  I  choose  to  play  with  cards  ? 
Annie*     Forgive  me,  father,  I  only  meant  if 

I  could  feel  aud  think  as  Hurry  and  Susan  do, 
j 

Father.  They  have  take«  their  own  way. 
I  have  taught  them  none  oi'  these  odd  notions 
—  I  have  not  been  pleased  with  them*  You 
know  that  it  is  in  yourself  that  I  have  taken 
pride,  I  have  delighted  in  your  accomplish- 
ments, and  the  praises  I  have  heard  lavished 
*ipon  you, 

Harrg.  It  was  at  the  Sabbath  School,  sister, 
that  I  learned  to  love  that  which  was  good  and 
turn  away  front  bad  company, 

Susan,  Had  I  not  been  kindly  afflicted, 
and  shut  out  from  your  gay  amusements,  I 
might  never  have  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  Harry's 
kind  words,  and  been  as' you  have  been. 

Annie.  But  don't  you  know,  father,  that 
Harry  goes  every  day  in  some  street  of  the 
•city,  with  books  and  cakes,  talking  to  the 
children,  aud  has  already,  with  Susan  and  some 
other  ladies,  clothed  and  gathered  into  school 
scores  of  children,  and  some  wicked  fathers 
have  been  reformed  aud  become  good  and 
happy  ? 


LIFE   AND   WRITINGS    OF 


Father.  My  Harry?  Is  it  my  Harry?  I 
have  often  heard  of  a  little  missionary  among 
the  children  ;  saw  a  notice  of  him  in  the  paper 
last  week,  —  that  he  was  a  remarkable  child, 
very  much  beloved,  and  some  of  the  poor  peo- 
ple thought  he  came  down  from  a  better  world 
than  this  is,  every  morning,  and  went  back 
every  night.  He  was  called  good  Harry  ;  but 
I  did  not  know  it  was  my  Harry. 

Harry.  Oh,  Father  !  then  you  are  willing  for 
me  to  be  the  children's  missionary  ?  (Taking 
his  father's  hand). 


SUSAN  WAKEMAN  AND  THE  INFIDEL. 

It  was  a  sultry  day  in  summer.  A  young 
woman,  erect  in  form,  with  an  earnest  counte- 
nance, and  rapid  step,  was  passing  along  the 
paved  walk  of  the  busy -street  of  London.  Her 
face,  flushed  with  the  heat  and  long  walk,  bore 
marks  of  a  genial  spirit  within,  blended  with 
an  ardor  of  temperament  and  firmness  of  pur- 
pose characteristic  of  a  business  woman  reared 
amid  the  noise  and  stir  of  London.  At  a  very 
early  age  she  was  left  without  a  mother,  and  as 
soon  as  she  could  be  of  any  service,  was  taken 
into  the  store  with  her  father.  Here  she  ac- 


MttS;    CHRISTIANA   B.    COWELL.  2G7 

quired  that  acquaintance  with  human  nature, 
that  self-reliance  and  dignified  independence,  so 
Valuable  to  her  when  cast  alone  upon  the  world. 
After  her  father's  death,  through  the  kind  inter- 
est of  an  uncle,  she  was  employed  by  a  parasol 
and  umbrella  maker,  where  ehe  became  so  skill- 
ful at  her  trade,  and  evinced  so  much  of  a  busi- 
ness turn,  that  she  was  promoted  to  first-hand 
in  the  shop,  This  prosperity  was  not  long  en- 
joyed ;  for  she  pursued  the  fashionable  pleasures 
of  life,  at  the  theatre,  dancing-hall,  and  other 
gay  circles,  where  her  brilliant  wit  and  pleasing 
person  brought  many  professed  friends  —  thus 
finding  favor  with  her  worldly-minded  relatives. 
He  who  lighteth  every  one  that  cometh  into 
the  world,  made  way  to  her  benighted  heart. 
Up  to  the  age  of  twenty-one,  to  use  her  own 
words,  she  was  a  ^perfect  heathen,"  She  aimed 
to  maintain  moral  respectability,  which  involved 
a  contempt  of  all  forms  of  religion t  except  that 
of  the  established  church.  She  was  prostrated 
with  severe  sickness,  and  taken  to  St.  George's 
Hospital,  where  she  lay,  just  quivering  with  life's 
faintest  pulsations.  The  physician,  after  linger- 
ing awhile  by  her  couch,  whispered  to  the  nurse, 
*f  By  midnight  she  will  be  gone."  Although  ap- 
parently insensible,  her  quick  ear  caught  the 
fearful  words,  and  repeated,  "'Gone!'  Where 
am  I  croinof?  Am  I  to  die?  Where  shall  I 


268  LIFE   AND    WHITINGS   OF 

go?"  This  was  the  first  solemn  thought  of 
eternity  that  hud  pierced  the  darkness  of  her 
mind.  She  had,  indeed,  a  vague  idea  of  her 
mother  in  her  coffin,  and  a  friend  lifting  her  to 
look  upon  her  face,  saying,  "Your  mother  is  in 
heaven,  and  if  you  are  good  you  will  go  to  her." 
This  was  all,  of  a  religious  character,  that  she 
had  ever  heard.  She  now  longed  to  speak  to 
some  one  about  the  dark  future.  At  midnight 
the  crisis  was  past,  and  she  took,  with  relish,  a 
little  nourishment.  Yet  she  waited  for  the  usual 
round  of  the  minister  with  painful  anxiety.  She 
had  turned  with  scorn  from  his  former  visits, 
and  was  deaf  to  his  words  ;  but  now,  at  his  ap- 
proach, she  looked  wistfully  to  his  face,  and  in- 
quired, "Where  shall  I  go  when  I  leave  this 
world?"  "God  has  a  chosen  people,"  said  the 
clergyman,  "  and  if  you  are  on^elected  to  grace, 
you  will  be  safe  —  God  will  take  care  of  His 
own."  "But  if  I  am  not  of  the  elect  —  I  am 
lost,  am  I?"  "God  has  ordered  all  things  ac- 
cording to  His  infinite  wisdom,  and  we  cannot 
•  change  His  holy  purposes."  This,  with  similar 
remarks,  plunged  her  deeper  into  darkness,  un- 
til her  distress  became  almost  intolerable.  She 
had  heard  that  Christ  died  for  sinners, —  then 
why  not  for  poor  Susan  ?  she  said.  In  this  state 
of  blindness  she  had  so  far  recovered  as  to  leave 
the  hospital. 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  269 

Not  long  after,  as  she  was  passing  along  Queen 
street,  she  heard  the  voice  of  prayer,  and  eager- 
ly pressed  her  way  into  the  chapel  where  the 
dissenting  Methodists  were  engaged  in  worship. 
She  took  a  seat  near  the  door,  as  she  thought 
unnoticed.  Upward  rolled  the  fervent,  agoniz- 
i ng  prayer  for  souls  unsaved .  "  Whosoever  will , 
may  come  and  partake  of  the  waters  of  life. — 
Draw  that  dark,  trembling  soul  to  Thyself!  — 
Open  to  their  eyes  the  great  overflowing  foun- 
tain where»all  Judea  and  Jerusalem  may  wash 
and  be  cleansed  !  "  She  trembled  violently  ;  it 
was  for  her  that  prayer  was  going  up,  she  said, 
and  I  will  pray.  She  sank  on  her  knees,  and 
in  sobs  and  tears  repeated  the  publican's  prayer, 
until  she  saw  the  fountain  filled  with  blood,  full, 
and  free  for  all,  and  felt  that  she  was  cleansed 
therein. 

Here  commenced  her  connection  with  that 
body  of  people  so  devout  and  blessed  of  God, 
yet  persecuted  by  the  longer  established  churches 
and  the  people  of  the  world.  As  has  been  in- 
timated, Susan  was  made  to  feel  all  the  bitter- 
ness that  such  a  connection  could  call  out  from 
a  scornful  world.  No  one  in  her  circle  of  rela- 
tives to  sympathize  with  her,  she  was  turned 
out,  homeless  and  friendless,  as  fit  only  for  a 
mad  house.  Cast  down,  }'et  not  destroyed, 
she  at  last  found  employment,  at  her  trade,  and 


270  LIFE    AND   WRITINGS    OF 

secured  a  room  with  a  pious  friend,  where  she 
had  the  privilege  to  prepare  her  own  food,  and 
lodging.  She  had  succeeded  in  laying  by  some 
three  and  one  half  guineas,  by  the  closest  fru- 
gality, and  went  out  thankfully  to  her  labor, 
asking  no  more,  if  she  might  not  eat  the  bread 
of  idleness,  and  be  not  cut  off  from  communion 
with  the  people  of  God. 

Her  room  on  Bond  street  was  opposite  a 
store  with  a  large  window  for  displaying  goods. 
Just  as  she  had  arrived  opposite  thi*  large  win- 
dow, a  culprit  fleeing  from  the  pursuit  of  the 
officers,  dashed  past  her,  plunging  the  ends  of 
the  umbrella  frames  she  had  in  her  arms, 
straight  through  the  vast  pane  of  the  window. 
Almost  paralyzed  with  the  suddenness  of  the 
blow,  she  stood  in  silent  contemplation  of  the 
shattered  glass,  when  out  rushed  the  owner 
of  the  establishment.  With  loud  oaths  and 
threats  he  demanded  immediate  pay  for  the 
broken  glass.  "This  was  the  work  of  a  man," 
she  said,  "  who  has  just  ran  past  with  officers 
at  his  heels."  "Who  will  believe  that  lie, 
madam,"  said  the  infuriated  merchant ;  "  there 
are  the  very  things  in  your  arms  that  has  been 
through  the  glass. \  "Let  me  step  in  out  of 
this  crowd,''  said  the  trembling  young  woman, 
"  and  I  will  explain."  With  oaths  he  led  the 
way  inside  the  store,  and  confronted  the  accused 


\ 

MRS.    CHRISTIANA   B.    CO  WELL.  271 

with  withering  look  and  burning  anger.  "  I 
have  not  the  sum  you  claim,"  she  said,  after 
calmly  explaining  the  accident.  "Yet  unjust 
as  your  demand  is,  I  will  bring  you  all  I  have, 
and  work  for  the  remainder."  "Yes,  likely," 
lie  says,  "  if  I  shall  see  you  again  if  I  let  you 
off  with  that  promise.  I  shall  keep  this  bundle 
till  you  return  with  the  money."  She  replied 
that  this  was  all  the  means  she  had  to  live. 
Yet  the  angry  man  was  inexorable.  Leaving 
her  bundle  on  the  counter,  she  was  passing  out 
when  amid  curses,  she  turned,  looked  steadily 
in  his  face,  and  in  a  solemn  yet  tender  tone, 
said,  "Remember,  sir,  you  and  I  shall  meet 
again  at  the  judgment  seat  of  Christ."  "Ah," 
he  shouted,  "you  are  a  prating  Methodist,  are 
you?  You  will  get  no  more  favors  for  that," 
With  eye  of  pity,  she  said,  "I  shall  go  home 
and  pray  for  you,  sir,  for  your  danger  is  great." 
She  went  to  her  room,  out  of  hearing  of  his 
muttering  tones,  and  shut  herself  up  alone  with 
God,  and  prayed  just  as  such  a  lacerated,  trust- 
ing heart  might  pray.  The  next  evening  at  the 
regular  class-meeting,  Miss  Wake  man  at  the 
close,  related  the  interview  with  the  profane 
merchant,  and  closed  by  requesting  the  sisters 
to  pray  for  the  poor  lost  man.  Old  sister  Man- 
ning remarked,  "God  will  be  in  this  affair,  you 
may  trust  my  word."  Somewhat  comforted,  she 


272  LIFE    AND   WRITINGS    OF 

returned  to  her  room,  and  again  shut  herself 
in  her  room  to  pray. 

Her  simple  breakfast  was  scarce  completed 
next  morning,  when  she  was  told  that  a  gentle- 
man awaited  her  at  the  door.  What  was  her 
surprise  to  find  the  merchant  with  the  bundle 
of  work.  "Good  morning,"  was  the  salutation, 
with  an  attempt  at  stern  dignity,  ftl  called  to 
say,  as  you  were  dependent  on  this  work  for 
your  bread,  I  would  give  it  op  for  the  three 
and  one-half  guineas  you  said  you  had  in  your 
possession."  The  money  was  advanced ;  and 
he  had  passed  a  few  steps  from  the  door,  when 
turning  with  an  air  of  aifected  indifference,  said, 
"Miss  Wakeman,  shall  you  pass  our  way  to- 
day?" "Yes,"  she  said.  "Will  you  give  us  ti 
call  ? "  was  the  hesitating  reply.  He  seemed 
struggling  with  emotions  which  he  wished  to 
conceal.  With  this  singular  request  he  passed 
rapidly  down  the  street.  We  may  imagine  the 
feelings  of  our  humble  seamstress  as  she  plied 
her  needle  in  her  little  room.  Now  and  then  a 
tear  of  gratitude  to  her  Heavenly  Friend 
dimmed  her  eyes,  or  fell  upon  her  work.  The 
last  stitch  was  at  last  set.  With  face  bespeak- 
ing a  calm  and  holy  trust,  she  once  more  stood 
before  the  counter  of  the  merchant.  After 
some  indifferent  questions  about  her  work,  the 
pay  she  made,  i&c.,  were  respectfully  answered, 


MRS.    C1I1IISTIAXA    15.    COWKLL.  273 

he,  at  lust,  as  if  by  a  desperate  effort,  broke 
out  resolutely,  maintaining  that  same  air  of 
indifference.  "I  believe  you  said  something 
the  other  daj  about  praying  for  me,  did  you?" 
"I  did  sir;  I  promised  to  pray  for  you,  and  I 
have  kept  my  word."  "  Then  you  think  there 
is  something  in  this  praying,  do  }'ou?"  "  God 
can  hear  and  answer  prayer,''  was'  the  calm 
reply.  Looking  sternly  in  her  face,  he  said, 
"Well  then,  I  hope  you  will  just  pray  that  I 
may  get  a  little  rest  to-night ;  for  I  have  not 
slept  any  since  you  was  here  the  other  day." 
"That  then  is  the  answer  to  my  prayer.  God 
is  calling  you  to  repentance,  he  wills  the  salva- 
tion of  your  soul.  As  you  value  life  more  than 
death,  I  entreat  you  not  to  turn  away  from 
Him  that  speaketh  from  Heaven."  His  face 
was  pale,  a  free  perspiration  stood  on  his  fore- 
head, and  with  tremulous  voice  and  a  forced 
levity,  repeated,  "You  just  pray  that  I  may 
get  some  sleep,  will  you,  ma'am?"  "I  will 
pray  that  God  may  prepare  you  for  the  great 
day,  when  we  all  shall  appear  before  the  judg- 
ment seat  of  Christ ; "  and  with  these  words 
passed  out  of  the  store.  The  next  day  and  the 
day  following  as  she  passed  on  her  way  to  the 
shop,  the  store  was  closed.  The  third  day, 
feeling  some  anxiety,  she  passed  very  slowly, 
hoping  to  see  some  one  of  whom  she  might 

\2* 


274  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

inquire,  as  she  had  noticed  the  day  previous 
thut  the  knockers  -on  the  door  were  muffled, 
and  she  had  no  doubt  that  the  sin  burdened  man 
was  the  sick  one  within.  She.  passed  and 
repassed  on  the  opposite  sidewalk  until  the  door 
was  opened  and  a  servant  girl  Ciime  Out.  She 
inquired  who  was  sick.  "My  master  is  very 
sick,"  was  the  reply.  "He  is  constantly  raving 
about  the  judgment  seat  of  Christ,  and  about 
that  money.  He  talks  all  the  time."  "I  think 
I  know  the  cause  of  this  raving  and  worry. 
When  the  physician  comes  again,  please  ask 
him  if  I  may  see  his  patient,  and  please  tell 
him  what  I  have  said.  I  will  come  to-morrow 
and  hear  his  answer."  On  the  following  morn- 
ing she  spent  some  half  an  hour  with  the 
kitchen  maid  before  the  doctor  came  down 
from  the  room  of  his  patient  to  give  an  answer 
respecting  the  proposal  left  with  the  maid. 
When  the  doctor  came  in,  and  learned  who  the 
caller  was,  he  said  sarcastically,  "Then  you 
think  you  have  more  skill  than  we  have.  You 
suppose  you  can  cure  Mr.  Perkins  ?  "  (the  mer- 
chant.) She  said,  "I  think  he  may  be  suffer- 
ing from  some  mental  trouble,  and  I  might  bo 
a  benefit  to  him  if  I  could  see  him."  "Well, 
well,  walk  up,"  said  the  doctor;  "let  us  see 
what  you  can  do."  No  sooner  had  she  entered 
the  room  than  Mr.  Perkins  stretched  out  his 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL. 


hands  exclaiming,  "I  know  it  \vas  wrong,  it 
was  unjust  —  you  shall  have  it  back  again  every 
penny."  As  soon  as  Miss  Wakeman  could  be 
heard,  she  said,  "I  have  not  come  for  the 
money;  I  do  not  want  it,  and  more,  I  shall 
never  take  it  back  ;  so  pray  think  no  more  of 
that,  —  think  of  your  soul,  —  yield  to  the  spirit 
that  has  been  teaching  you  the  way  of  life  and 
true  happin.  "Madame,"  interrupted  the 

doctor,  "  we  don't  need  any  preaching  he're  now  ; 
if  Mr.  Perkins  wishes  anything  of  the  kind,  we 
will  send  for  the  Dean  of  Carlisle."  "  Who  is 
the  Dean  of  Carlisle,"  said  she,  "but  an  Infidel, 
sir,  like  yourself.  Is  it  not  true  that  he  has 
only  strengthened  you  and  this  poor  sick  man 
in  your  rebellion  and  rejection  of  the  true  light, 
in  your  secret  meetings?"  As  might  be  ex- 
pected, these  bold  words  stung  a  little  too 
deeply  in  the  conscience  of  the  doctor,  to  allow 
any  further  development  of  his  private  associa- 
tions. Although  he  had  opened  the  door  with 
an  air  that  seemed  to  say,  you  can  retire  now, 
yet  with  solemn  tenderness,  she  continued, 
"Beware,  doctor,  how  you  stand  between  this 
immortal  soul  and  endless  life;  a  solemn,  fear- 
ful requisition  will  be  made  at  your  hands  in 
the  da^y  of  judgment." 

As  she  turned  to  the  door,  the  sick  man  be- 
sought her  not  to  forsake  him,  for  he  was  a 


276  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

I 

poor  lost  man.  Promising  to  call  again,  sho 
went  down  to  the  kitchen,  and  prayed  and  con- 
versed with  the  servant.  She  found  there  was 
no  Bible  in  that  magnificent  dwelling,  and  left 
word  to  the  master,  that  the  word  of  God  must 
he  in  his  house  and  that 'his  wife,  who  had  been 
sent  away  on  account  of  some  disagreement, 
must  be  restored,  before  she  could  hope,  or 
encourage  him  to  hope,  for  favor  with  God. 
Soon  after,  she  learned  that  the  wife  had  been 
reconciled  to  her  husband,  also  that  his  distress 
was  even  greater  than  ever.  "  I  am  lost !  I  am 
lost !  "  was  his  mournful  cry.  Miss  Wakeman 
read  to  him  such  portions  of  the  scriptures  as, 
"  Christ  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners,  of 
whom  I  am  chief."  "What  is  that?  Paul 
the  chief  of  sinners  ?  Was  he  ever  so  great  a 
sinner  as  I?  Yet  he  was  saved.  There,  now 
I  see  a  faint  gleam  of  hope  just  breaking  into  a 
crevice  of  the  dark  dungeon  in  which  I  have 
been  groping ;  yes,  a  little  light.  Perhaps  I 
may  yet  find  mere}'."  After  pointing  him  to 
Christ  as  the  great  mediator,  she  offered  prayer 
for  the  penitent  seeker,  his  wife,  the  happy 
kitchen  maid,  and  other  attendants  being  pres- 
ent. 

The  events  here  described,  occurred  some 
forty  years  since,  when  Wesleyan  Methodism 
was  in  its  infancy.  Then  it  was  no  uncommon 


MUS.    CHKISTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  '277 

thing  for  females  to  be  ordained  as  preachers, 
having  their  appointed  circuits,  and  they  \vcre 
instrumental  in  winning  many  to  Christ.  Father 
Bunting,  Robert  Newton,  Adam  Clark,  and 
others,  under  whose  ministrations  Miss  "\Yake- 
man  had  lived,  encouraged  personal  effort  by  all 
Christians,  male  and  female,  in  every  lane  of 
life.  The  fearless  adventure  of  Miss  W.  was 
no  new  feature  of  those  times. 

On  the  faintest  dawning  of  hope,  the  merchant 
was  hurried  away  to  a  watering  place,  many 
miles  distant,  and  thus  all  means  of  learning  the 
progress  in  his  new  life  were  cut  off.  Miss  AVakc- 
man  did  not  fail,  however,  to  remember  him  iu 
her  prayers.  Months  passed,  when  she  was  hap- 
pily surprised  by  a  letter  written  in  behalf  of  the 
maid  she  had  first  seen  on  the  steps,  by  which 
she  learned  that  the  maid  had  attendcr  her  mas- 
ter through  all  his  sickness,  and  by  excessive 
care  and  watching,  became  prostrated  and  was 
with  her  mother  in  Gloucestershire.  She  had 
enjoyed  great  peace,  and  was  now  ready  to  de- 
part and  be  with  Christ.  She  expressed  un- 
bounded gratitude  to  the  friend  who  first  point- 
ed out  the  way  of  life.  Her  master,  she  said, 
had  gone  to  Heaven,  strong  in  hope.  He  had 
made  some  provision  for  her  in  his  will ;  and 
had  often  been  heard  to  say,  with  deep  emotion, 
that  he  thanked  God  that  his  window  was 


278  LIFE    AND    WAITINGS    OF 

broken  by  the  umbrella  frames  of  a  devoted 
Christian,  which  was  the  means  of  saving'  his 
soul. 

Both  master  and  servant  died  rejoicing  in 
hope ;  fruits  of  the  persevering  labors  and 
prayers  of  a  humble  female.  Miss  W.  was 
ever  seeking  like  opportunities  of  usefulness, 
often  speaking  to  the  stranger  in  the  street  or 
shop  about  the  interest  of  the  soul.  It  was  her 
custom  to  go  out  every  Sabbath  morning,  for 
the  purpose  of  dropping  religious  tracts  into  the 
hands  of  such  as  were  violating  that  holy  day  ; 
and  many  through  her  labors  were  brought  to  a 
knowledge  of  Christ.  She  came  to  America, 
where  she  died  a  few  years  since,  a  member  of 
a  F.  W.  Baptist  church,  the  wife  of  one  of  its 
worthy  ministers. 


EXTRACTS  FROM  LETTERS. 

XK-VV  YORK,  JAN.  5,  1860. 

MY  DEAR  CHRISTIANA,  —  You  had  a  long 
epistle  from  my  heart,  as  soon  as  I  read  your 
precious  letter.  But  I  can  only  write  a  little 
even  now  after  this  long  time.  How  ashamed 
I  am  of  not  writing,  when  you  could  write, 
watching  with  the  sick.  But  how  can  you  do 
s.>  much?  are  you  made  of  iron?  Your  little 
sketches,  the  "dream"  and  the  "serenade,"  are 


M11S.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  279 

just  what  we  want :  they  arc  the  singing  of  the 
heart  from  a  mother.  Oh,  how  I  wept  over 
them  !  The  more,  I  suppose,  because  it  took 
me  to  the  time  when  you  and  I  were  girls, 
studying  at  the  old  Academy.  How  little  we 
knew  then  how  happy  we  were.  I  enclose  three 
dollars,  to  encourage  you  to  write  us  some 
more  of  the  "singings  of  the  heart."  Wish  we 
could  afford  to  offer  you  enough  to  make  it  an 
object  for  you  to  write  ;  but  ours  is  n  labor  of 
love,  we  do  not  make  any  money  by  the  Jour- 
nal. Write  when  you  can.  Yours  with  much 
love,  C.  O.  II. 

NEW  YORK,  MARCH  2,  — . 

MY  DEAR  AFFLICTED  FRIEND, —  I  have  been 
waiting  a  few  days,  since  receiving  yours,  to 
write  you  a  long  letter ;  but  I  cannot  do  it  to- 
night. What  words  could  I  speak  that  would 
be  of  any  avail  to  you  ?  None  but  the  blessed 
Jesus  can  comfort  you,  and  I  feel  assured  He 
will.  Your  darling  has  gone  a  little  before  you. 
The  Lord  doeth  all  things  well,  but  how  mys- 
terious. I  enclose  in  this,  five  dollars  for  your 
articles, —  wish  we  were  able  to  double  it. 
Shall  we  hear  from  you  again  ?  Do  not  exert 
yourself  too  much.  May  the  choicest  blessings 
rest  on  you  and  yours.  I  know  you  will  be 
sustained,  my  dear  precious  friend. 

Good  bye,  CAROLINE. 


280  LIFE    ATsi)    WHITINGS    OF 

LINES  WRITTEN  A  FEW  DAYS  BEFORE 
HER  DEPARTURE. 

September,  24:th,  1862. —  Another  birth  clay. 
Forty-one  years  I  have  journeyed  on  earth  ;  but 
now  my  pilgrimage  is  almost  done.  Two  years 
I  have  been  coughing  and  failing,  and  now  am 
just  on  the  brink  of  the  grave. 

On  the  3d  of  February  a  darling  little  boy,  Eu- 
gene, sickened  and  went  to  Heaven.  The  blow 
and  the  care  so  prostrated  my  feeble  frame,  that 
I  thought  the  hour  of  my  release  was  at  hand, 
and  rejoiced  at  the  bright  prospect  which  was 
before  me ;  but  my  hour  had  not  yet  come. 
From  that  time  to  the  present  has  been  a  scene 
of  suffering  with  me,  vain  for  me  to  attempt  to 
describe.  An  ulcerated  throat  that  destroyed 
my  voice,  rendered  whispering  painful,  and  the 
taking  of  food  and  drink  almost  an  impossibility. 
Poor  frail  nature  shrank  from  the  prospect  of 
such  u  lingering,  suffering  death  as  was  before 
me,  and  often  was  ready  to  cry  out,  "  Father,  if 
it  be  possible  let  this  cup  pass."  Long  I  labored 
to  submit,  and  grace  at  last  prevailed  ;  and  now 
I  would  not  choose  my  manner  of  death  ;  for  I 
feel  that  my  Father  is  dealing  with  me  in  love. 
He  has  gently  borne  me  down  almost  to  the 
grave, —  my  strength  is  almost  gone,  yet  He  is 


.MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL.  281 

no;ir  me  day  and  night  and  keeps  my  mind  in 
perfect  peace.  For  several  days  there  has  been 
a  beautiful  view,  like  a  panorama,  stretching 
out  before  my  inner  vision.  I  see  a  broad  bay, 
its  waters  sparkling  with  sapphire,  gold  and 
purple  hues.  Its  splendor  is  beyond  the  mid- 
day light, —  on  its  farther  banks  I  see  the  glit- 
tering domes  of  a  vast  city.  Oh,  glorious  City 
of  our  God  !  Its  walls  are  sparkling  in  the 
eternal  light  of  the  divine  glory. 

September,  26th. —  Last  night,  whenever  I 
awoke,  there  was  a  green  tield  spread  out  be- 
fore me,  the  clean  grass  so  smooth,  the  field  so 
broad  and  beautiful,  my  silent  soul  would  sing, 

"  Sweet  fiolds  beyond  the  swelling  flood, 
Stand  dressed  in  living  green.'1 

Thus  has  the  long  night  of  sickness  been  now 
and  then  lighted  with  a  few  bright  gleams  of 
the  land  to  which  I  am  going.  Sometimes  I 
have  made  several  fruitless  attempts  to  swallow 
cold  water,  but  have  set  down  the  glass  with  the 
glorious  vision  springing  up  before  me,  of  the 
crystal  fountains  of  life  that  forever  sparkle  and 
leap  in  the  light  of  God's  eternal  love;  no 
parched  lips, —  no  fevered  brain,  no  more  pain 
or  death. — The  day  before  her  death  she  wrote, 
"I  know  the  pain  and  loneliness  you  will  feel 
when  I  am  ijone.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  shall 


282  LIFE    AND   WRITINGS    OF 

often  come  and  look  upon  you.  May  Heaven 
bless  and  comfort  yon  all ;  for  yon  have  spared 
no  pains  for  my  comfort.  I  thank  yon  for  your 
constant  kindness.  Some  of  you  will  soon  fol- 
low, no  doubt.  Oh,  I  pray  above  all  things 
that  3rou  may  be  ready  !  Pray  daily." 


UNDERBILL  CENTRE,  VERMONT,  JULY  8,  1861. 

MY  DEAR  AUNT, —  I  unexpectedly  learn  that 
you  are  quite  sick,  and  declining.  I  can  truly 
say  I  am  sorry,  for  I  have  always  prayed  that 
your  health  might  be  preserved  and  your  life 
prolonged  many  years,  that  you  might  do  much 
more  good  still.  May  the  Lord  bless  you  and 
be  to  you  as  precious  in  affliction  as  he  has  been 
to  you  in  health.  I  trust  you  will  find  Him 
much  more  so,  for  He  is  a  very  present  help 
in  the  time  of  need.  "  Many  are  the  afflictions 
of  the  righteous,  but  the  Lord  will  deliver  them 
out  of  them  all."  One  week  ago  I  took  up  the 
Star.  I  looked  for  C.  B.  C.,  and  found  the  ar- 
ticle entitled  "Angel  Carrie."  I  read  and 
wept,  wept  and  read,  then  closed  the  piece  and 
wept.  I  have  read  other  articles  of  yours 
equally  as  touching,  but  peculiar  impressions 
concerning  you,  bore  upon  my  heart  at  that 
time.  The  next  I  hear  from  you  is  that  you 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO  WELL.  283 

are  languishing.  How  much  I  have  been 
cheered  by  your  pen  when  forlorn  and  weary, 
among  these  Green  Mountains. 

Dear  aunt,  may  a  good  share  of  Heaven's 
best  blessings  rest  upon  you,  that  if  your  flesh 
and  heart  shall  fail,  God  will  be  the  strength  of 
your  heart  and  your  portion  forever.  Amen. 

SHEM. 

In  April,  before  her  departure  to  the  land  of 
rest  beyond  the  river,  in  October,  her  voice 
failed  so  she  could  only  be  heard  in  a  low  whis- 
per. So  anxious  were  her  family  and  friends 
that  she  might  recover,  the  most  skillful  physi- 
cians were  consulted,  who  thought  that  a  change 
of  air  and  climate  might  be  beneficial  in  restor- 
ing health,  much  more  than  any  medicine  that 
could  be  prescribed,  if  it  was  possible  that 
health  could  be  restored.  Having  a  sister 
residing  in  Schenectady,  Xew  York,  and  a 
brother  in  Fort  Dodge,  Iowa,  and  kind  friends 
in  places  between,  who  were  all  very  solicitous 
that  she  should  undertake  a  journey  west,  es- 
pecially her  brother  and  sister.  Arrangements 
were  made,  and  in  June  she  started  for  Iowa, 
stopping  in  Lawrence  and  Chelsea  a  few  days. 


284  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

She  then  went  to  visit  her  sister  in  Schenectady. 
The  change  of  air  and  the  journey  seemed  to 
revive  her  so  much  that  she  indulged  in  the 
fond  hope  that  she  should  be  able  to  visit  her 
brother  in  Iowa  ;  and  in  July  15th,  she  wrote 
as  follows  : 

DEAR  HUSBAND  :  —  I  have  just  received  this 
full  letter  from  brother  Lorenzo,  one  page  of 
which,  containing  a  repetition  of  directions,  I 
have  cut  out.  I  am  in  haste  to  get  it  to  you, 
so  I  will  not  stop  to  write  much.  The  dreadful 
soreness  of  my  throat  proves  to  be  a  large  ulcer 
which  broke  yesterday.  My  throat  is  still  sore, 
yet  relieved  of  the  acute  inflamation.  I  have 
used  poultices  every  night, —  feel  quite  smart 
to-day,  and  can  speak  a  little  by  great  effort ; 
but  don't  think  it  safe  to  try.  You  see  brother 
L.  has  made  the  way  quite  plain  for  me  to  go 
west.  What  do  you  think?  As  to  strength,  I 
am  as  well  able  (and  more  so)  as  I  was  to  come 
here  ;  and  these  resting  places  among  friends 
look  quite  comfortable  ;  but  I  much  rather  have 
compairy,  yet  am  not  afraid  to  start  alone.  Is 
it  possible  for  you  to  come  and  go  now?  Is  it 
best  for  me  to  go?  It  is  a  decision  for  life; 
perhaps  I  majr  last  long  enough  to  see  you  all 


MRS.    CHKLSTIANA   B.    COWELL.  285 

settled  there,  and  thereby  serve  a  better  pur- 
pose than  my  poor  life  can  otherwise  do. 

Yours  in  haste,  C.  B.  C. 

Extracts  from  a  letter  dated  Aug.  llth,  1862. 

DEAR  HUSBAND  :  —  My  throat  is  so  bad  I  feel 
unxious  to  be  at  home ;  as  I  cannot  have  com- 
pany for  a  week  or  two,  hence  it  seems  necessary 
for  me  to  send  for  you.  Come  as  soon  as  you 
can ;  perhaps  you  may  get  this  so  I  can  get 
home  Saturday  night.  Don't  be  alarmed  about 
me.  It  is  all  my  throat,  which  is  covered  -with 
little  ulcers,  and  is  very  hard  to  bear;  yet  my 
strength  must  be  failing,  and  I  think  the  sooner 
I  am  at  home'lhc  better. 

Yours  kindly,  C.  B.  COWELL. 

Saturday  morning  she  started  for  home, 
although  very  feeble;  arriving  in  Boston,  she 
consulted  a  lung  physician,  who,  after  examina- 
tion, did  not  give  much  encouragement,  but 
ordered  Hypophosphites  and  some  other  medi- 
cine to  give  temporary  relief.  She  went  to 
Chelsea,  and  tarried  with  a  very  kind  family 
over  the  Sabbath,  whose  kindness  was  often 
referred  to  after  her  arrival  at  home.  Monday 
she  arrived  at  home,  and  was  received  by  re- 
joicing as  well  as  weeping  friends,  to  meet  again 


LIFE    AND   AV1MTING8   Of 

upon  the  shores  of  time.  She  continued  failing 
until  the  8th  of  October,  when  with  the  setting 
sun,  she  departed,  as  calm  and  serene  as  the 
sun  hides  beyond  the  western  hills,  to  her  long 
sought  and  expected  home  in  Heaven. 

During  her  long  and  distressing  sickness,  not 
a  murmur  was  known  to  escape  her  lips,  often 
conversing  with  her  companion  ^yith  a  smile  on 
her  countenance,  as  though  she  was  about  to 
start  on  a,  pleasant  journey.  At  one  time,  while 
he  was  sitting  by  her  bedside,  taking  her  by 
the  hand,  and  seeing  her  flesh  had  almost  all 
wasted  away,  he  said,  "O  Christiana,  the  worms 
will  not  have  much  to  feast  upon,  but  there  ia 
enough  left  to  be  made  immortal."  With  a 
Binile  and  heavenly  glow  upon  her  countenance, 
and  a  halo  of  light  around  her  head,  it  seemed 
as  though  angels  had  come  to  take  her  home. 
Such  a  sight  he  never  saw  on  earth  before. 
Before  her  departure  she.  gave  directions  as  to 
her  funeral,  and  being  inquired  of,  what  text  of 
scripture  she  would  like  to  have  a  sermon 
preached  from,  remarked,  that  during  the  long 
nights  of  distress,  she  had  often  thought  of  the 
land  of  rest,  where  she  soon  expected  to  be, 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA   B.    COWELL. 

that  there  would  l>e  no  night  there.  Sermon 
preached  by  Rev.  E.  True,  to  a  large  congrega- 
tion. Text,  "  And  there  shall  be  no  night 
there."  Singing  at  the  grave  by  the  choir:  — 
"Sister,  thou  wast  mild  and  lovely." 

Why  should  I  stay  when  thou  art  gone, 

The  sunshine  of  my  life  ; 
How  can  I  bear  to  meet  alone, 

The  conflict  and  the  strife. 


[For  the  Morning  Star.] 
DECLENSION  OF  ZION  WITH  OMENS  OF  GOOD, 

While  again  to  plaintive  numbers, 

I  yield  my  harp's  long  silent  string, 
Standing  amid  her  desolation, 

Of  what  but  Zion  can  I  sing  ? 

• 
Once  did  thousands  like  a  current, 

Toward  her  happy  borders  flow, 
Saying  the  Lord  of  hosts  is  with  you, 
And  thither  let  us  also  go.* 

But  who'that  to  the  combat  rushes, 
Nor  force  with  adverse  force  couipares,f 

But  what  when  mighty  foes  assail  him, 
Is  slain — or  •worse —  dismayed,  retires. 

Thus  fearfully,  the  foes  of  Ziou, 

Have  broken  through  her  walls  and  gates, 

Her  half  equipped,  unwary  soldiers, 
How  coward-like  her  ranks  for*iikr. 


288  LIFE   AND   WRITINGS    OF 

And  many  hurps  whose  holy  anthetn 
Rising  to  heaven,  the  faintest  cheered, 

Are  hung  neglected  on  the  willow, 
And  her  sweet  minstrels  disappeared. 

Her  watchmen  —  Ah  !  who  knows  their  sighing, 
While  with  slow  and  mournful  tread, 

They  pace  her  walls,  and  blow  the  trumpet, 
II'  yet  they  may  not  wake  her  dead. 

But  cease,  my  heart,  this  sad  bemoaning, 

E'en  now,  I  hear  the  watchmen  cry, 
There  is  a  distant  chariot's  rumbling, 

Thy  king,  O  Zion,  draweth  nigh. 

He  hath  beheld  a  prayerful  inceuse 

Ascending  round  his  holy  throne, 
And  comes  to  lift  the  heavy  night-pall 

That  o'er  his  bride  hath  lingered  long, 

Then  wake,  O  Zion,  ope  thy  portals, 

Let  thy  glorious  Lord  come  in, 
To  walk  majestic  through  thy  palaces. 

And  make  thy  sanctuaries  clean. 

C.  B,  C, 

*  Zach.  viii :  23,  f  Luke  xiv :  31. 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COW  ELL.  28J» 

AWAITING  DEATH.— AN  INVALID'S  SONG. 

BY   CRADLE-SIDE. 

Awaiting  death,  yet  not  with  dread. 
No  gloomy  spectre  haunts  my  bed, 
No  lurid  wings  above  me  wave 
No  ghostly  hand  points  down  the  grave. 
No,  all  is  light,  one  clear  pure  light, 
Deep  in  the  heart,  burns  day  and  night, 
While  far,  a  widening  circle  seems 
All  radiant  with  its  hallowed  gleams. 

Then,  welcome  death,  haste  thy  approach, 
Calmly  we  wait  thy  chilling  touch, 
Behold  this  feebly  heaving  breast 
Here  let  thy  palsying  hand  be  prest 
T'  this  beating  heart,  speak,  if  tliou  will, 
And  bid  its  life-long  throbs  be  still  — 
The  current  of  this  life-blood  stay, 
Turn  all  this  wasted  flesh  to  clay. 

Yes,  close  these  eyes  —  press  back  this  breath, 

And  all  thou  canst,  is  done,  O  death. 

See  now !  a  glorious  life  revealed ! 

By  Christ  secured,  with  Him  concealed 

It  lives,  it  triumphs  in  this  hour, 

Beyond  thy  reach,  O  mystic  power ! 

l"p  through  the  shining  depths  it  springs, 
While  songs  of  praise  it  sweetly  sings. 
Then  there's  to  me  no  death,  no  grave, 
I  see  but  Him  who  died  to  save, 
Arrayed  in  grandeur,  love  and  light, 
'Tis  Jesus  fills  iny  wondering  sight. 

13 


290 


LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 


w 


o 

z 

H 


^ 

w 

K 


:  f        <••-         *, 


a  -       v»       »» 

•i     _: ;  .          i 


* 
1 


rr%:  3 

.  r 

1 


__    _1 
«  '  * 


i    - 

..  - 

-- 

— ^~-    —     •  •        • 


Q 


<fe.       •:•  = 

!»M*  ^*       * 

' 


SH 


:_x 


« 


o 


-^< 


:»i  -2  "= 

: 


flffl 


%i 


JLLi 


H 


srra 


i  i 


« 


II 

-.-»     [4-m 


i 


i  .  . 

,     ?T3 


wIS 


; 


IS 

% 


HJ1 

• 


T-%.  ?o 

-' 


f 


v; 

H| 


B 


-     *   » 

1 


--       — 
T 


a 


"   ll 


T'^V 
j 


*N 

II 

«.j_ 

f 
> 


m 
c^ 


-A!  US.    CHRISTIANA    B.    COWELL. 


. 

(•      0 


'  il 


K-H 
h  •    • 

»    <*        » 


!    o 


' 

riii 


_^ 


fri; 

111 

fi-i; 


n 

in 


..     I  ! 

I  1 


« 


»  : 


*-' 
4 

* 

» 


*      ii  fH 


il          r^     ., 

I?  4  i  '• 


«« 


^ 


a 
B 

I  :trf     T 

S  -  -\>  I 

7         MM          I 


K 


3*  J   ^ 


\ 


-U      *- 


|  * 

M    ;  j  I 

-5        §  .  -g 

S       •*  4}  I 

8      -°  -5  s 

glf   J-.2.S 

rf   «  S  S  S 


|s 
s  ^ 


J  "  s 


Ji 

cT   C        "' 

5   §    >   o3  'S 

:-s  s  -c  s  = 

g    o  -    s    '- 

^  s  -s  ^  = 


.s  £  o  ^ 


^     s   .- 


"        .£»      O 

«   c  if 

i_.        r-     r-*. 


^      ^ 

r:  "^ 


g  s  ^ 

"  "t!  ^ 


-S      '  —  ' 


292  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

[From  the  Mothers'  Journal.] 

TALKS  WITH  OUR  FRIENDS. 

THE  LAST  LETTER  FROM  "CRADLE-SIDE." — 
Soon  after  the  death  of  the  lamented  Mrs. 
Cowell,  the  well  known  "Cradle-side,"  we  re- 
ceived from  the  hands  of  her  husband  and 
daughter,  a  package  of  papers  designed  for  us, 
and  containing  articles  sketched  by  her  during 
a  protracted  sickness.  These  have  since  ap- 
peared in  our  pages.  With  these  there  were 
some  lines,  traced  faintly  in  pencil  marks,  for 
ourself,  intended  to  <rive  us  some  conception  of 
her  feelings  as  she  steadily  approached  the  dark 
river.  Though  meant  for  us,  there  is  no  reason 
why  we  should  withhold  them  from  those  who 
have  so  often  read  with  {Pleasure  and  profit  her 
contributions.  They  speak  for  themselves. 
They  show  with  what  calm  serenity  she  awaited 
the  hour  of  her  triumph.  She  has  conquered 
and  is  at  rest.  We  have  before  us  the  last  lines 
from  her  hand.  We  part  from  her  as  from  a 
sister  greatly  beloved  and  greatly  missed  ;  a 
mother  whose  heart  beat  with  earnest  desire  to 
counsel  and  encourage  mothers.  We  bid  her 
farewell  on  earth  to  meet  her,  when  our  work 
is  done,  in  heaven. 

DEAR    MRS.    Hiscox, —  Your    darling   boys 


MRS.    CHRISTIANA    B.    CO-WELL.  293 

have  sometimes  had  the  promise,  as  the  sultry 
months  came  on,  that  they  should  leave  the  hot 
city,  and  go  back  into  the  cool,  pleasant  coun- 
try. How  often  have  you  heard  them  talk  of 
their  plan  for  enjoyment,  seen  in  imaginations 
the  water-wheels  in  the  brooks,  the  wind-mill 
on  the  shed,  the  free  and  happy  gambols  among 
the  trees  and  fruits  and  flowers  !  How  happy 
the  young  hearts  have  been  with  joy,  to  the 
brim  and  overflowing ! 

Well,  just  like  that,  with  all  that  child-like 
simplicity  and  assurance,  I  find  myself  a^rang- 
ing  my  joys  in  that  upper  country  to  which  I 
am  going.  First,  I  dwell  upon  my  happy  en- 
trance into  that  glorious  place.  It  seems  to  me, 
when  I  find  myself  once  passed  through  the 
door,  and  shall  stand  face  to  face  with  Christ, 
"the  Way,  the  Truth,  the  Life,"  the  resurrec- 
tion and  the  power,  the  Mediator  through  whose 
suffering  and  great  love  I  have  been  saved,  I 
shall  fall  prostrate  at  his  feet  and  worship  and 
adore.  And  should  He  raise  me  up,  I  shall  fall 
again  and  again,  until  I  have  poured  out  the  full 
tide  of  praise  and  gratitude  and  adoration  for 
the  wondrous  love  and  wisdom  that  has  re- 
deemed a  world  from  endless  woe.  I  have 
dwelt  on  this  soul-thrilling  point  as  I  have  lain 
on  the  bed  of  sickness,  until  my  pillow  has  been 
wet  with  tears  of  tender  emotion. 


294  LTFP:  AND  WHITINGS  OF 

Then  I  think  further,  should  my  Saviour  see 
iit  to  withdraw  himself,  and  bid  me  survey  the 
hosts  of  heaven  and  the  glories  thereof,  I  would 
begin  to  look  for  the  dear  ones  that  were  mine 
on  earth.  Xow  I  see  flying  toward  me  a  shin- 
ing trio,  my  darling  babes  hovering  down  around 
me, —  shall  I  indulge  the  thought, —  calling  me 
*' Mother."  Yes,  mother!  Mother  of  angels! 
How  rapturously  shall  I  embrace  them,  hold 
them  back  to  look  in  their  faces,  and  recognize 
all  those  sweet  lineaments  that  pained  memory 
had  reviewed  again  and  again,  and  tried  to  hold 
distinctly  in  her  grasp.  Yet,  with  the  passing 
of  the  care-burdened  years,  these  features  have 
grown  indistinct.  But  oh  !  I  shall  see  them,  so 
fresh,  so  sweet,  so  pure,  beaming1  in  full  recip- 
rocation of  my  love  which  on  earth  they  could 
not  know.  Then  shall  we  talk  over  the  expe- 
riences since  our  last  look  of  recognition  on 
earth.  The  thoughts  and  fears  as  they  passed 
alone  into  the  untried  vale  of  death,  where  my 
yearning  heart  longed  to  attend  and  cheer  them, 
but  could  not. 

Since  writing  the  above  I  have  been  brought 
very  low.  Nearly  six  months  I  have  suffered 
with  ulceration  of  the  throat,  in  all  of  which 
time  my  voice  has  been  gone,  and  whispering 
has  been  painful.  Truly  He  has  appointed  unto 
me  days  of  weariness  and  nights  of  pain.  Just 


MRS.    C1IKIST1AXA    B.    COWKLL. 


as  I  was  gazing1  after  the  spirit  of  my  boy, 
thinking  to  pass  joyfully  into  the  golden  gate, 
my  heavenly  Father  seemed  to  say  to  me, 
"  Xot  yet,  thy  faith  is  to  he  tried  as  by  fire." 
Nearly  six  months  He  has  led  me  through  suf- 
fering beyond  description.  Yet  in  all  this,  I 
can  say  He  leads  me  Avith  a  gentle  hand,  and 
tempers  the  severity  of  my  disease  to  my  '.vast- 
ing  strength.  And  I  know  that  when  He  has 
sufficiently  tried  me  I  shall  come  forth  as  gold 
well  retined. 

Now  that  nature  has  almost  failed,  it  seri,i< 
that  rest  cannot  be  far  ofl'.  My  cup  of  bitter- 
ns given  me  new  appreciation  of  and  de- 
sire for  heaven,  -where  there  are  no  weary 
nights  of  pain,  nor  any  dying.  Can-  it  be  I 
soon  shall  be  with  and  like  my  God?  He 
takes  my  thoughts  away  to  that  happy  land, 
and  makes  me  lose  si<rht  of  mv  thornv  path. 

•  »          L 

He  lifts  uie  as  a  gentle  shepherd,  bearing  me  in 
His  bosom  when  I  faint  by  the  way.  AYhy 
should  I  call  it  affliction  with  such  tender  care  ? 
Xo  !  'tis  sweet  to  fall  into  His  hands. 

In  the  review  of  my  maternal  life,  I  sec  many 
points  passed  over,  in  doubt  whether  I  had 
chosen  the  right  way,  and  a  fear  lest  at  the 
last  I  should  see  and  regret.  But  no  such  re- 
grets ctfane.  Xo  more  light  appears  on  the 
misty  points,  yet  one  silver  thread  runs  far 


296  LIFE    AND    WRITINGS    OF 

Kick  through  it  all  —  a  desire  to  do  right! 
How  deeply  I  have  felt  for  the  worn,  toiling 
mothers,  and  have  loved  to  send  some  word  of 
cheer  to  their  perplexed  hearts. 

But  my  work  is  done.     Heaven  forgive  its 
imperfections.     Farewell. 


UCSB  LIBRARY 


••in  mi  inn  inn  inn  my  ||   1 1|  mil  |  1 1 1  mi  in 

A     000604189     1 


/ 

•JIOAIOJ  -s  -H 


